


Archangels and Librarians take 3 - the Halloween edition

by LadyMarianne123



Category: Constantine (TV), Dominion (TV), Lucifer (TV), The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:29:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMarianne123/pseuds/LadyMarianne123
Summary: I decided to write the next part of the story with Halloween in mind.





	1. Chapter 1

In L.A. - days before Halloween

Lucifer watched the workers set up for the party with a jaundiced eye. When Rowan had appeared back at the club he had been intrigued and just a little thankful to see her. The situation with Det. Decker was, at the moment, at a standstill. “Who would have thought she would take knowing I never lied to her so oddly?” he thought, moving sideways as a large keg of some sort of ale was rolled through to the bar. Realistically, he knew that he was being impatient. It had only be a few weeks since the incident with Marcus / Cain and Chloe finding out everything Lucifer had said to her was true. Unlike Dr. Linda she hadn’t gone totally catatonic – but neither had she been willing to talk to him about the situation. Or anything else for that matter. Linda had suggested giving Chloe time to process her new reality – but frankly patience was not a virtue the Devil often practiced. And Dan blaming him for Charlotte’s death hadn’t made things any easier. So Rowan’s suggestion of a Halloween party had seemed a wonderful distraction. Until he saw the guest list.

“You want to invite Cernonnos?” he had asked, astounded. “You do know the creature is eight feet tall and has a huge set of horns on his head – right?”

Rowan laughed gaily. “Of course I do. He’s been master of the Black Gate guards since we took our thrones. I’ve seen him practically every day. And he’s closer to seven feet than eight – more basketball player and less giant.”

“Whatever. And this lot – aren’t these…”

“Yes, I invited the Wild Hunt. They’ve pissed Arthur off and are looking for ways to make amends so I told them they could tend bar and act as bouncers. I also invited Marie Laveau, the Creole witch from New Orleans. She’s promised to help with the catering.” She grinned unrepentantly at the Prince of Hell. “Don’t fret so, Uncle. We’re renting out your club for the night so we’ll pay for any damages our assorted guests might inflict on your establishment. There won’t be any humans other than the Librarians here to see who attends either - and they won’t be phased by it at all. Unless, of course, you want to invite your little friend…?”

Lucifer sighed. “I seriously doubt she’d be willing to take a call from me right now – much less attend a party I’m throwing.” He continued to read through the list, stopping finally at the last line. “Wait – this says…”

“Yes, and thank you for reminding me. I need to ask Amenadiel for a favor on that set of invites. Be a dear and ask him to come talk to me. I’ll be in your office making arrangements for the entertainment to be in place before we start the show.” She kissed the Prince of Hell lightly on the cheek then strolled off in the direction of his office, leaving him open-mouthed with the guest list in his hand. 

“She’s nutters, that one” he muttered, looking at the last line of the list. “Gone completely mental.” He carefully folded the documents in half and set on the table, leaving the last line visible, before going in search of his angelic brother. As he walked away, he glanced back to reassure himself he had actually read what he thought he had. There, in bold gold ink was the line – “Send Invitation to Archangels Michael, Gabriel, Uriel and Rafael.”

In the Library

Cassandra ran happily into the main room, a red envelope in her hand. “Look! Look! It was in my chair!” she squealed. 

Stone and Jones both turned, each holding an identical envelope. “We know” Stone replied with a smile. “We found them on our chairs too.”

Ezekiel waved his invitation happily. “Halloween at one of the hippest nightclubs in Los Angeles – smashing!” He read quickly through the missive, looking for the phrase he had noticed the first time around. “And it says we can wear costumes!”

Stone looked back down at his invitation. “It says costumes are optional – and I’m taking them at their word. No costume for me.”

“Come on, mate” Ezekiel protested good-naturedly. “It’s Halloween! Everyone wears a costume on Halloween! It’ll be fun! I’ll go as Raffles, the greatest thief in literature and you can go as a cowboy.”

Stone frowned at his Aussie friend. “I am NOT a cowboy!” he muttered. 

Baird, also holding a red envelope strolled in, smiling at the Librarian’s enthusiasm. “Considering what happened the last time we went “clubbing” I’m surprised everyone is so worked up about attending.”

“But it’s an invitation from Rowan” Cassandra protested. “That’s SO different from the last time we were in a club. I’ll bet she’ll have all sorts of interesting people mingling around, and food and music and…”

“We get it, Red” Baird laughed. “You are a definite “Yes” for attending the party.”

“What about Flynn?” Stone asked. “Is he onboard for this?”

Baird shrugged, unconcerned. “Don’t know if he’s seen his or not. But like it or not our Head Librarian didn’t go with us the last time we went out on the club scene – he doesn’t get a pass on it this time.”

“Can you imagine Rowan and Arthur in Club Effigy?” Ezekiel said with a grin. “Wonder if they knew Dorian in the day. I would have thought that Rowan would have eaten him alive if she had run across him.”

Stone laughed. “I’m betting Arthur would have bounced Dorian off a few walls if he had tried his little trick of off-loading his sins on any picture of Rowan or himself.”

“I wonder how their Fae magic would have reacted to his spell-bound camera” Baird mused, slowly fanning herself with the envelope.

“I doubt Arthur would have allowed a photo to be taken” Jenkins replied, stepping up to the group with his own invitation in hand. “He always had a sense for magic being used around him. I suspect Lady Rowan is as well – which would not have bode well for Dorian.”

Flynn picked that moment to stroll into their space, book in one hand and envelope in the other. “Did you all see…?”

Everyone held up their invitations with a smile. “It’s going to be one HELL of a Halloween” Baird said with a smile. “Wonder who all else is getting an invite?”

 

In the court of the Fae Realm

Khan, brightly decorated cotton robes brushing the ground around him, sauntered into the throne room in search of his brother. Arthur was on his throne with his father Vlad beside him, reviewing event reports from teams the Crown had sent to the outermost parts of the kingdom. The young abbot waved a colorful envelope in the air as he walked up. “So… we’re really going to do this?”

Vlad looked up with a smile. “Of course we are. Rowan wants a party…”

“Rowan wants to start a war” Khan corrected with a snort. “She’s bored.”

“So am I” Arthur admitted wryly. “And it might not be so bad.”

Vlad reached over and laid a cold hand on his son’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling well? We’re inviting the Hunt, dark Fae, human Librarians and the Archangel Brothers to be in the same room at the same time with the Morningstar – the very being they tried so hard to evict from Heaven. And you think it might not be so bad?”

Arthur shrugged. “Would clear the air a bit – at least for us. Parley is always a good strategy especially since we’re looking at interfering in John’s little dustup with the Brujeria. He’s in no position to deal with them and a double-dealing guardian angel.”

“Has anyone told John we’re getting into his business?” Khan asked, grimly.

“What John doesn’t know won’t get us hurt – and it won’t get back to his “buddy” Manny. I’ve got other plans for that two-timing sod.”

Vlad smiled, his sharp teeth just showing over his lips. “Ah – so that’s why you and your sister are “inviting” the Archangels to the party. Now all is clear.”

Arthur gave his father a grim look. “If there is one thing I can’t abide it’s a turncoat. The angel hanging around John Constantine has reawakened the Brujeria, a cult that should have been extinct long ago. The only reason he would have done that – that I know of – is to start a war with Heaven. Those bloody monsters should have been dealt with permanently. Now they are back and we’re stuck cleaning up the mess. We can handle the damned magic users and demon summoners. But that angel is Heaven’s problem and, by the Almighty, the angels are going to deal with it if I have to throw his rotting carcass in their faces to get them to take a side.”

Khan eyed his brother quizzically then shrugged. “On that happy note – let’s talk costumes.”

Vlad laughed softly. “Oh I have an idea for that as well.”

Arthur sighed. “That’s what I was afraid you would say.”

In the realm of Heaven

Amenadiel looked around furtively, hoping to find Archangel Rafael and not his other, angelic brothers. Queen Rowan had handed him a red envelope and shooed him off back to Heaven with instructions to make sure the Archangels knew about the party at Lux – and that they were invited. The dark-skinned angel had tried, desperately, to convince her it wasn’t a good idea to put four Archangels and a Devil in a room at the same time but she had only laughed and said that sounded like a very bad joke but she was willing to risk it. Amenadiel was pretty sure Lucifer wasn’t happy about it but considering his current issues with Det. Decker – maybe re-starting a war with his brothers wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Looking for someone?” a wry voice echoed in his ear. Amenadiel turned to look up into a pair of very dark eyes shiny with amusement. The angel of the Throne choir stood with his dark silver wings extended as though he had just landed, feathers still fluttering in the breeze. His face was all sharp angels, high cheekbones with a thin nose, making him looks somewhat skeletal. Zaphiel, eldest of the Thrones and current “Voice of God” stood with arms crossed, peering down at the gold envelope in his brother angel’s hands.

“Zaphiel” Amenadiel said with a forced smile. The angel – know to his fellows as “the Judge” – was universally respected yet feared in Heaven. More so now that he had taken Metatron’s place beside the throne of the Almighty. “I…uh…have an errand to run.”

“For the young Queen of Fae?” the Throne mused, plucking the invitation from Amenadiel’s fingers. Zaphiel read the missive quickly, one eyebrow raised at its contents. “And she got the Morningstar to agree to this?”

“I don’t think she gave him much of a choice” Amenadiel admitted, sheepishly. “She can be quite persuasive when she wants to be.”

“Which is usually all of the time” the other angel agreed with a sigh. “It’s what makes her a good advocate. I have to admire that in her – even when I do feel the need to shake her when she goes too far. Ah well, if it makes the little cat happy to watch World War III breakout in our brother’s establishment, who am I to say no?” He turned and started off, envelope still in his hands.

“Brother” Amenadiel called out, motioning to the invitation.

“Not to worry” the Judge replied, waving it in the air behind him. “I’ll deliver your message – and make sure those boys know it’s not a request from our Heavenly Father that they oblige his little guardian – but a command.” The Throne’s silvery wings flared out as he took to the air, headed for their Father’s presence.

“Oh this just gets better and better” Amenadiel muttered.


	2. T-Minus 2 days and counting

T-minus 2 days till Halloween – at Lux

Lucifer preened in front of his mirror, admiring the way the expensive tux showed off his figure. “Yes – quite acceptable” he murmured, checking his hair one more time.

“Is that your costume for the night?” Dr. Linda Martin – Lucifer’s personal therapist and one of the few mortals who knew for certain he really was the Prince of Hell – stood in the door of his bedroom, shaking her head in resignation. Her patient had an ego the size of the Grand Canyon and though she had thought they had worked on his sometimes lamentable lack of empathy his belief in his own excellence was a mountain she had not yet been able to cross. She eyed his tuxedo with amusement. “What are you going as?”

“Why, I should think that would obvious” Lucifer purred. “I’m going as a nightclub owner.”

“You ARE a nightclub owner” Linda replied patiently. “The whole idea of wearing a disguise during a Halloween party is to be someone you are not.”

“But why would I want to be anyone but me?” he asked with a smile.

She sighed and shook her head. “Never mind – there is a group of very rough looking men and women milling around the bar looking for you. They say that Rowan sent them?”

Lucifer scrunched up his face in distaste. “Oh them! That would be the Wild Hunt. They are supposed to be playing bouncers and working behind the bar for the party. I hadn’t expected them this early. Usually they don’t start riding until the sun goes down.”

“Do I WANT to know who or what the Wild Hunt is?” Linda asked, tentatively. 

Lucifer looked down at her in surprise. “Oh, that’s right. Modern age and all. No one knows the Wild Hunt like their ancestors did. Well, folk lore says that the Hunt is comprised of a ghostly leader and his group of hunters and hounds flying through the cold night sky, accompanied by the sounds of the howling wind. The supernatural hunters are recounted as either the dead, elves, or in some instances, fairies. I’m not sure which description matches Rowan’s little motley crew downstairs but either way – when they start riding you want to make sure you’re inside and out of their path.”

“And…you’re letting them tend bar on Halloween?” Linda asked dubiously.

Lucifer shrugged, unconcerned. “Rowan says they will behave. I suspect they are more afraid of her than of me – which is strange if you think about it. I am the Devil, after all.”

“But you’re not in Hell anymore – so maybe there’s that to take into consideration.” Linda padded quietly away from Lucifer’s bed and into the living room area. “So…did you invite Chloe to the party?”

Lucifer followed her out, his usual self-serving glee suddenly dampened. “No. She’s still not taking my calls. And frankly I’m not sure attending a party filled with supernatural beings would help the situation between us. If she’s having issues dealing with the fact that I really AM the Prince of Hell – what’s she going to do with a seven foot, horned demi-god stalking around the place?”

Linda looked back at her patient then shook her head. “You know – suddenly I’m not so sure I want to attend either.”

In the Library

Cassandra carefully laid out several colorful skirts and blouses, each paired with a shimmery shawl and large pieces of costume jewelry. “So, what do you think?” she asked, turning to Eve and Jenkins.

Jenkins looked over at their Guardian and shrugged. “I have no opinion” he murmured.

Baird looked over the outfits critically. “Thought you were going as cat?” she asked carefully.

“Well, I sort of was but I was talking to Estrella and she thought going as a fortune teller would be so much prettier.” Cassandra picked up one set of hoop earrings and handed them off with a dubious smile. “The outfits aren’t all THAT bad – are they?”

“No Red, they actually will look pretty good on you. It’s just the idea of you being a fortune teller at a Halloween party being thrown by the Devil for his Fae sort-of niece and nephews has a kind of odd symmetry to it.” Baird’s eyes finally settled on a shimmery green and gold peasant blouse and flouncy skirt. “This one would look really good with your hair. My opinion – go for outfit number three.”

Cassandra’s smile lit up the room. “That what Estella thought too. It’s too bad she can’t attend – she would probably like Rowan.”

“I would be surprised if she didn’t already know her” Baird mused thoughtfully. “Remember her brother telling us she had friends everywhere?”

Stone suddenly appeared at the door, juggling boxes that had just been delivered to the Annex door. “Hey – someone delivered boxes of something heavy” Stone groused, dropping them on the table besides Cassandra’s clothing. “Anyone order anything fancy for the party?”

Jenkins poked through the deliveries and rescued one specific container. “This one is mine.”

“Doesn’t look like a tux” Stone replied dubiously. “What are you going as?”

“Myself, Mr. Stone.” He opened the box and pulled out a dark tunic with an elegantly painted coat of arms. He held it out at arm’s length, examining it critically. “Yes – that should do quite nicely.”

“Is that your coat of arms?” Cassandra asked, quietly.

“It was” Jenkins replied, folding the outfit carefully back into the box. “It was – when I was a much, much younger man.”

“What about you, Baird?” Stone asked gruffly. “What are you going as?”

“I pulled my dress uniform out of mothballs – strangely enough it still fits. So – for Halloween I get to play soldier again. What about you and Jones?”

Stone shrugged. “Jones keeps going on about some character named Raffles…”

“Arthur J. Raffles” Flynn called down from the second floor book area. He trotted down, carrying tomes for research he had planned on doing later that day. “British fictional gentleman thief written by E.W. Hornung. He was something of an anti-hero, written as the inverse version of Sherlock Holmes – which make sense since the author was Conan Doyle’s brother-in-law.”

“Figures Jones would go for that type of character” Stone said with a smile. “What about you, Flynn? Who are you going as?”

“He’s going as a play on Indiana Jones” Baird responded with a grin. “Even has a bullwhip – which I suspect Rowan will take away from you if you try to play with it at the party.” 

“And you, Mr. Stone?” Jenkins asked quietly. “What costume will you be wearing?”

Stone shrugged, uncomfortably. “Still not wearing a costume. If anyone asks – I’m a guest lecturer from a Midwest university.”

“And you think you will be allowed to get away with that?” Jenkins asked dubiously.

Stone smiled. “Costume doesn’t have to be fancy – just has to be what you are not. Right?”

In the court of the Fae Realm

Rowan looked over the clothing laid out on her bed with frown. “We’re going to a party in our hunting gear?” she asked, confused.

Arthur sighed. “No – we’re going as characters out of the game Khan and I have been playing. You know – Witcher 3. I will be Geralt, Khan will be Avallac'h, father will play Vesemir and you will be Yennefer.”

“But I don’t LIKE the character of Yennefer” Rowan protested. “And besides – this outfit isn’t her type of garb anyway.”

“Well, then you can play Triss. And before you ask – no there are no female witchers. It’s just the way the books and game were written.” He plucked his own costume up off the chair and stared at himself in his sister’s oversize mirror critically. “Hmmm… I can see one problem already.”

“You’re too pretty to play a scarred old monster hunter?” Rowan teased.

“Well – yeah. Actually that’s about right. Not enough scars on the face. I’m supposed to be pretty roughed up from years of hunting monsters. Kind of hard to pull off since our Fae constitutions heal without scarring.”

“I’m sure that one of the members of the Brujeria or Constantine’s guardian angel would be happy to rectify that for you.” Vlad’s voice echoed in his daughter’s bedroom, flowing in through her open door. He stood watching his children discuss costumes and parties with a jaundiced eye. “You do remember that’s where this all starts and end – right? Getting the archangels to deal with John’s feathery “guardian” while we take down that sorcerous cult.”

“We know” Arthur replied with a sigh. “But we need to sell it to John first – and if we go in hot and heavy about how he’s been conned by his angelic shadow you and I both know the boy will bolt and try to deal with things on his own. John’s good – but he isn’t THAT good.” 

“What makes you think Manny won’t just show up with John – just to see what we might know about the Rising Dark?” Rowan sat on her bed cross-legged, looking up at her elder brother and father as they paced around the room.

“Oh, I expect him to show up. Hence – the invitation to the Archs to join us. And a personal message to our new “friend” to come along as well.” Arthur smiled wolfishly. “Manny may wish he’d never started shit with us after we’re through with him.”

At the Mill House

John Constantine, con artist and sometimes talented exorcist – jerked upright, woken from a sound sleep by a disturbing dream. “Damn!” he muttered. “Really should lay off the booze and spicy food for a while.” He swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and watched as a red envelope which had been on his chest floated to the ground. “What the…?”

“I was going to ask you about that” Zed asked, walking out of the small Mill house kitchen. Zed Martin was a pretty girl with wavy hair and delicate feature. Zed wasn’t her “real” name – but it had served to hide her for this long from her family and she had gotten used to answering to it. “Looks like an invitation to a party.”

John opened the envelope carefully, looking for anything that might jump out at him – anything supernatural that might try to latch on to his aura. All he got for his trouble was a paper cut and an invitation written in elegant calligraphy inviting him and a guest to a Halloween party in Los Angeles. “Party at some place called Lux. Now where have I heard of that place before?”

“Who sent the invitation?” Zed asked cautiously.

John checked the envelope carefully then frowned. “No clue, luv. Not signed.”

“So are you going?”

The exorcist sighed. “Probably. If only to find out why find out where I know the name of the club from.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

John shrugged. “I haven’t had a good idea – or at least a safe one – since Newcastle. And with the Rising Dark taking a break from trying to end the world figure I am owed some down time.”

“So – when do we leave?”

“We don’t” John corrected, rising slowly from the sofa. “I’m going – you’re not. And don’t bother to argue.”

“I wasn’t planning on arguing” Zed replied quietly. “I have this funny feeling you need to make this trip alone.”

“Had another vision, have you?” he asked, quickly.

“Yes – and no. Let’s just call it a hunch. Come back safe and TRY not to piss off anyone else. You have enough enemies as it is.”

John grinned unrepentantly. “All ways room for a few more people out for my hide. Makes life interesting.”

Zed sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will try to cover multiple locations up until we get to the party itself.


	3. T-minus 2 days till Halloween - pt. 2

T-minus 2 days till Halloween – In the Realm of Heaven

Rafael looked down at the red envelope given back to him by the eldest of the Thrones – the angel not so affectionately known as “The Judge”. He'd chased him down almost to the Throne of their Almighty Father then spent an inordinate amount of time trying to convince the litigiously minded angel that it would go over better with his brothers if HE, Rafael, delivered the message from the Triad. Zaphiel had reluctantly agreed but insisted that the Archangel impress on his siblings that it wasn't just an invitation from the Triad - their attendance was mandated by the Almighty. “What are those three playing at?” he muttered, holding it gingerly by the corner.

“What’s that?” Uriel’s voice wafted out onto the ethereal plane, followed by the burly angel himself. Since Vega, Uriel had kept to himself, joining his brothers only at the foot of the Throne to sing praises to the Almighty. He still wore the image of the young, beautiful Viking warrior though he spent less and less time with sword in hand, preferring to stick to his books. And to his memories of the Chosen that God had erased from all memories but his.

“It’s an invitation to a Halloween party” Rafael replied, slowly. “At Lucifer’s club in the human realm.”

“Ballsy move for him to invite us” Uriel said, dismissively. “Wonder what he’s playing at?”

“The invitation isn’t from Samael” Rafael corrected, using the Devil’s original name. “It’s from… well, it’s from the kids.”

Uriel went silent, staring from his brother to the missive in his hand. “From…Damien?” He reached out and took the invitation from Rafael, turning it over in his hands as he read the wording of the message.

“No, little one, from the person he is now. The invitation is from the Royal House of Fae – King Arthur, Queen Rowan and Lord Master of Dragons Khan.” He handed the envelope to his twin, hoping he was doing the right thing. Neither Uriel nor Gabriel had taken the changes in the Triad well, especially after they had been informed by their Heavenly Father that this change was permanent – and that they were not to ignore the proclamation from the Fae throne barring them from their lands. Only Michael had seemed to not be affected and even there Rafael suspected it was more a matter of his older brother not choosing to share his grief rather than Michael not feeling it.

“Yes – of course. Arthur” Uriel replied, slowly. “I always forget that.”

“You don’t forget – you just don’t want to acknowledge it.” Rafael’s voice was calm and patient, a balm to his brother’s still deep grief.

“Where did you get it from?” Uriel murmured, eyes still fixed on the elegant script in front of him. Not his Firebird’s hand – of that he was sure. His companion had NEVER mastered readable longhand and the angel was sure no matter what name he was currently going by now the young king’s handwriting was probably still chicken scratch.

“Zaphiel – along with a not so subtle hint that Father was expecting us to attend. Seems there is something going on in the mortal realm that we are expected to deal with so that the kids can deal with something else.” Rafael’s voice took on a bitter tinge. “Looks like Father has found a replacement for Metatron.”

“Zaphiel?” Uriel asked blankly, trying to place the name. “He’s a Throne – correct?”

“Oldest of that law obsessed bunch. And was Seraphiel’s shield brother during Heaven’s war with Lucifer. Smart, manipulative and blood-thirsty. Perfect angel to put in place as a go-between for the kids.” The archangel’s voice sank even lower, bitterness seeping out of every word.

Uriel looked up at his twin with worried eyes. Rafael had been the supportive one through all this, the one that both he and Gabriel had leaned on in their time of grief. It had never occurred to the archangel that his brother would be dealing with his own issues about having their “kids” removed from their care. “What do you think we should do?” he asked, carefully handing the envelope back to his sibling.

Rafael sighed, his anger draining away as quickly as it built up. “Tell Michael and Gabriel we four are going to a party. What else can we do?”

“Do about what?” Gabriel floated into the conversation, his black wings gently folding behind his back as he landed beside Uriel.

Rafael mutely handed the invitation to their brother, eyes resolutely on the paper and not on his sibling’s face. “This. Our Heavenly Father commands we attend and find out what needs to be dealt with by Heaven so that the Triad can deal with their part.”

Gabriel went still, staring at the envelope in Rafael’s hand. “Do we know what the issue is that Heaven needs to act on?” he asked, his voice stern.

“No clue – but Zaphiel says we need to discuss it with the kids…”

Gabriel held out a hand to his sibling. “They aren’t our kids any more, Raffi.”

“They will ALWAYS be our kids” Rafael protested angrily. “No matter what God has done to “improve” them, no matter what he has changed in them or taken from them they will always be our young ones. And if that law obsessed vulture of a Throne says we need to discuss this with them, then I’m all for jumping back to the human realm and talking to them.”

Gabriel sighed. In his mind he knew this could prove to be a very, very bad idea. But in his heart…to see his little dragon one more time, even if this boy wasn’t “exactly” the son he had raised… “Alright, little brother. I’ll break the news to Michael and we’ll prepare to be on our way.” He caught sight of a phrase on the invitation and smiled. “So – what costume are YOU planning on wearing, Raffi?”

Raffi smiled, glad to see light in his elder brother’s eyes again. “I’ll let you know when we get there.”

T-minus 2 days till Halloween – in the precinct

Chloe carefully put her cellphone back down thoughtfully. Ella Lopez, CSI wiz and eternal optimist, slid into the detective’s office, results from a crime scene in hand and stopped with a frown. “What’s up?”

Chloe shrugged. “Linda can’t meet with me tomorrow. She’s busy helping… Lucifer…with some party he’s throwing at Lux.” She mentally kicked herself for hesitating at his name. Since seeing his face and realizing all those stories about being the “Devil” were true, Chloe had avoided coping with the situation by not speaking his name. She had told everyone, including Dan and Ella, that she needed time to understand what had just happened, how she could have been so blind as to not see that Pierce was not the “stable” guy she had hoped for. But it was learning that she had fallen for the Prince of Hell that had given her the most problems – problems she couldn’t share with anyone.

“So – are you going to his party?” Ella asked, nonchalantly.

“He didn’t invite me” Chloe mumbled, not really wanting to have this discussion.

“Well he can’t invite you if you don’t TALK to him!” Ella said in exasperation. “The Department and the FBI cleared you both on the issue of Pierce. There isn’t any reason…”

“Actually there is but I’m just not in the mood to discuss it” Chloe replied hurriedly. “Did you finish the tests on the murder weapon from the Bassinger case?”

Ella sighed. “Fine – change the subject. But Lucifer’s not going to wait forever for you to decide to talk to him. Rumor has it he’s been seen with a really pretty lady around the club so if you don’t get back on that horse soon he’s going to just ride out of your life again – just like he did when he ran for Vegas. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” Ella dropped the files on Chloe’s desk and jogged back to her office, not seeing the look on Chloe’s face as her friend’s words registered.

“Maybe that’s why I can’t talk to him” Chloe thought to herself. “Maybe I want him to leave so I don’t have to face the truth. The truth that he never lied to me – he always really was the Devil. And that the Devil has saved my life over and over again.” She stared down at the files on her desk, seeing nothing but that shocked and hurt look on her partner’s face when she had backed away from his burnt visage – after he had killed the man who had just tried to kill her.

Chloe wondered, for a moment, if Dan would be willing to take Trixie on Halloween night. After everything they had been through together – she owed Lucifer at least a chance to explain how things worked when you were the Prince of Hell.


	4. T-minus 1 day till Halloween - and the battle lines are drawn

T-minus 1 day till Halloween – In the Fae realm

Arthur stared at the crystal in his hand, weighing his options. “I wonder if showing this at the party would be worth the emotional response these images will produce” he mused, staring up at Draco and Drogo, the father / son dragons who served the throne.

Draco, the elder Golden Dragon, shrugged, unconcerned. “So long as you can keep your little brother from adding music tracks to the scenes, the battle strategy visible in the crystal should prove most educational.” He shifted his shoulders, trying to straighten the human “veil” he wore while in the castle. His natural form, while not frightening to the Fae and magic users who frequented the manor, was simply too cumbersome to wear in these confined spaces.

Drogo, the younger Black Dragon, smiled at his sire. “But the young Master Abbott has such good taste in music – especially hard rock. Those images captured during your battles in Vega are so much more exciting when they have a soundtrack added to them.”

“Exciting to anyone who wasn’t there” Arthur remarked dryly. He hefted the crystal thoughtfully then put it back in its pouch. “Maybe I’ll wait and let him put music to our destruction of the Brujeria. That should be an interesting vid to watch on Halloween night.”

"You're very certain that they will all be cut down by the attack?" Drogo asked, his eyes alight with interest.

"We'll take them down - especially if we bring that pyramid down on their wretched heads. Even if we don’t get all of them on the first pass then at least we’ll have taken out enough of them to dissuade the others from trying to stick their heads out of the hole we pound them into. No one is opening a door to Hell on my watch - No One." The King's eyes were icy with a shimmer of the fire of his Phoenix in their depths. Even the dragons shuddered at the thought of what their leader had planned for the witch cult.

“And when will that battle be held?” Draco asked, respectfully.

“We’ll start after them tonight and should be done with what we have planned for the creatures right before the party at Lux” Arthur replied, reaching for a scroll. “Can’t have someone trying to bring about the Rising Dark when my sister is trying to play matchmaker, can we?”

“Matchmaker?” Drogo said with a laugh. “Is that what this is all about?”

“Well – that and prying John’s fallen Guardian angel away from him and booting the winged sod into his proper cage in Hell.” Arthur’s eyes went from cold to calculating, taking on a predatory stare, much like his wolves during a hunt. “Tearing down the coven will also make both little brother and I more amenable to looking for some path to reconciliation with a particular set of angels. Probably leave us both too tired to argue – with them or Sissy.”

“Why does she want this reconciliation to happen?” Draco looked between his son and his King with speculation. He had wondered why the young Queen had suddenly taken an interest in the human holiday of Halloween. She had never seemed to notice it before – not even when she was young enough to participate in it. Her interest had been more in the Day of the Dead celebrations after Halloween and all the rituals mankind went through to honor their ancestors during the year. She had been placed in the old Warlord’s house at an early age as her own parents had died before she was old enough to remember them. Rowan never spoke of them but had, occasionally, accompanied Madame Laveau to the above ground cemetery or City of the Dead where her family was interred to lay flowers at their tombs. Both Arthur and his father accompanied her on these visits, letting her know by their presence that she was not alone. It was during one of these visits that her talent for speaking to the dead had manifested itself, a talent that had served the Crown well. 

“You’d have to ask her” Arthur replied with a shrug, hiding his concern over the subject under a mask of disinterest. “She seems to think that it would do little brother good to at least have SOME contact with the archangel who was his father in a previous incarnation. And she thinks the archangel who had been my mentor slash lover is pretty cute.” He grinned good naturedly up at the dragons. “That’s my sister for you – always trying to run my love life.”

“What about Archangel Michael?” Drogo asked.

Arthur sighed. “No clue. I suspect she thinks he’s pretty too – but that much intensity without a sense of whimsy or humor in one package would drive her to drink after a while. And then there’s our father and godfather to consider. They are not shy about commenting on our social lives – even when theirs are pretty non-existent. And they both have it in for Michael.” He shifted in his seat, stretching his lean muscles to resolve a kink in his lower back. "Our new angelic Control agrees with her - to an extent. Funny thing is - he's almost as calculating as she is. I'm going to LOVE watching those two when they have their first disagreement on tactics. It should be VERY entertaining." 

“So essentially, tracking down a murderous cult of witches and exterminating them is the easy part of your plan for making Halloween night more interesting? More interesting to you then your social life or lack thereof?” Drogo replied, his voice laced with humor and sarcasm – just like his master’s.

“Right in one, old friend” Arthur agreed.

"Well then" Draco purred, shifting his veil for easier removal. "No time like the present to start the hunt."

Outside the castle - the Royal Guards stood ready, archers, lance men and knights all armed for war. Rowan walked between the ranks, checking weapons and armor and making sure all that were about to enter the mortal realm understood exactly what their part in this skirmish was to be. "No one" she snarled, standing before the army. "No one goes off script. You are the distraction - not the main event. So stick to taking out any stupid human cultist, witch or warlock or, the Almighty forbid, any demon scum that tries to keep you from entering the pyramid. And make sure you don't trip over the explosives the Silent Ones will have planted by the time we arrive. Last thing we need is you accidently cutting a trip wire and blowing yourselves up."

"Explosives?" Khan's voice called out from across the field. He and his monks - all dressed in the drab robes typical for the monastic life - gathered to one side with the Dragon Priests eyeing the soldiers carefully. "Didn't we already use that in Vega?"

"Yes - well the Brujeria weren't in Vega were they?" Rowan replied with a smug smile. "Besides, I suspect they will be looking for a frontal attack. We're going to give them what they expect - and more."

"Talked to our godfather about this?" Khan asked, hefting his staff thoughtfully.

"He agrees with the strategy - so long as we're ready to shift if things don't go as planned. Best laid plans, as he delights in telling me, never survive first contact."

"He's right, you know" Vlad's silky voice floated out of the entrance to the castle. Behind him, Arthur and the dragons moved to join the younger Guardians with the army. "This could all go horribly wrong. Especially as you are insistent on taking that one additional fighter into the field with you."

"He'll be fine. Not his first time at war. And if it does wrong someone will have to get free to tell Lucifer to be prepared for some unexpected and gnarly guests" Arthur laughed, the lust for battle already lifting his spirits. 

"This" Vlad murmured to a figure standing in the shadows beside him, "will be interesting."

"Won't it just" the shadow behind him agreed.

In the Library

Jenkins laid his shield on the table beside his new tunic. The original shield, made for him by Arthur, had been taller than most, covering him from under his chin to about his ankles. Both he and the young Warlord were of an unusual height for men of that era so having something big enough to cover most of his body as he went into battle had been an issue. At least until Arthur had taken it into his head to fashion one for Galahad that matched his own, ornate kite. Sadly, the years had not been kind to his original protection and the new one just didn’t have the “look” of the original – even if it was made with sturdier materials. “Pity” Jenkins thought, casing a look up the stairs. “My original went through so many battles with me yet now I fear one good blow and it will shatter into splinters.”

“Tell me you’re not going to carry that thing to the party” a familiar voice echoed from behind him. Turning, the Library’s Caretaker was surprised and pleased to find himself face to face with Arthur. “You’ll be exhausted by midnight and you certainly won’t be able to dance with that animal strapped to your back.”

“I wasn’t aware I was required to dance” Jenkins grumbled, secretly pleased his friend was in a better mood. The last time he had seen him, Arthur had been angry at everyone – including him – over what Nicole Noone had tried to do to the Library. From the twinkle in the young King’s eyes, it would seem all was forgiven – at least for now. The Firebird was dressed in his battle armor, chain mail and knee-high leather boots with daggers visible at the top. He had his king’s sword strapped to his back and was holding his elaborate helmet under one arm. “Though how you plan on dancing in that outfit is beyond me.”

“I’ve done far worse in this armor than dance” he said with a shrug. “And while I don’t require much of anyone at a party, my sister… well that’s another story.” The Phoenix ran a finger over the new shield, admiring the materials used to create the kite including the light-weight Kevlar lining a company owned by his family had created. “I see you’ve modernized the old design.”

Jenkins shrugged. “I had very little choice in the matter. My old shield is barely holding together. The years have not been kind to it. And as I was re-creating my wardrobe from that era I thought it prudent to include a new shield.”

“And a new blade?” Arthur asked, looking up at his friend with a calculating stare.

“Why would I need a new blade?” Jenkins asked, suddenly disturbed. “What are you doing, Arthur? What devious plan are you trying to implement?”

“I’m planning on some fun before the party, old friend. Thought you might want to join in.” 

Arthur’s slow smile sent shivers up the Caretaker’s back as memories of the look flooded his mind. That smile only came out of hiding when his Warlord was planning a battle – one he knew would result in a slaughter of the enemy. Arthur was a generous and kind hearted towards those who followed him as any king Jenkins had ever met. But when an enemy crossed him – the wild, bloodthirsty nature of the Phoenix roared forward, looking to be placated. This, he feared, was going to be one of those times. “What, or who, are you planning on laying waste to?” he asked solemnly. 

“A cult of murderous, child-sacrificing, demon raising witches who should have taken the hint the first time they were laid waste and stayed extinct. This time – there won’t be a second chance for them. Any of them. And we need to get on the road to the battle soon before those bloody sods figure out how to permanently pry open a gate into Hell. They think they can bind anything streaming out of the depths to their will – but they don’t have a clue what might emerge from that door if they succeed. We’ve already gone through this nightmare once with the Vega reality, old friend. I won’t allow it to take hold here.” 

“So why are you here instead of on the road to war?” Jenkins asked, suspiciously.

“Thought you would like to join the hunt – just for old times’ sake” Arthur replied. “It would do you good to get back into the chase.”

“The Librarian’s already have a Guardian” Jenkins protested, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. “Col. Baird is quite capable…”

“Yes, I’m sure she is” Arthur replied soothingly. “But it never hurts to have back-up. And of this lot, you have the most experience in a fight. Or at least you did…”

“Are you suggesting I can’t defend myself anymore?” Jenkins voice had taken on an outraged tone, mirroring the look on his face.

“I’m suggesting, little brother, that even the most incorruptible and most experienced of knights needs to keep in practice with his blade if he’s going to be of use in a fight” Arthur replied steadily. ‘You don’t have to come – but I wish you would. I’d like to remember what it was like to fight with you at my back, going against the enemies of the realm.”

Jenkins stared into his friend’s steady gaze for a moment then sighed. “I could never say no to you” he admitted, pulling his new shield up from the table. “I suppose it’s too late to start now.” He motioned towards the Library’s back door. “Lead the way, my King.”

“I always do” Arthur rumbled, his smile bright with glee. “I always do.”

A shimmer of light – and the Library was left to contemplate the events about to occur.

In the Heavenly realm  
Michael gritted his teeth, determined not to show his annoyance at the presumption of this Throne in front of him. “Zaphiel” he said coldly. “If acting as Father’s executioners is all that is required, then why not let the young King do to this angelic companion of the exorcist Constantine as he did with Metatron and Noma? You had no issue with him taking their wings after judgement had been passed on them.”

Zaphiel smiled thinly. “Brother – I would certainly love to allow King Phoenix to deal with this situation even if he did somewhat jump the gun on dealing with Metatron. The Firebird is quite good at dealing with these sorts of issues, very thorough. And he cleans up after himself when he’s done. But it is Father’s will that the Triad deal with the cult this fool of an angel has resurrected. They will make sure no Gate to Hell is opened in this reality and you and your brothers will deal with Constantine’s angelic associate. These are Our Lord’s wishes and HE expects them to be obeyed.” The Throne was no fan of the Archangels, seeing them as too sure of their importance in Father’s plans. Or perhaps, if he were willing to admit it, he saw them as fools to allow their young students to be taken from them because of neglect. Telling Archangel Michael that he was expected to be their Father’s executioner was bitter sweet. It allowed him to take the arrogant soldier he saw in the Archangel down a peg but it also allowed Michael and his brothers to access the Triad again, something he was not sure was good for the young ones. 

“You disagree with our Father on allowing us to speak to our former students” Michael guessed, watching the Throne’s impassive face.

Zaphiel shrugged. “Truth be told, brother, I’d just as soon you and your sibling NEVER come near those young ones again. They are settled into the understanding of what was done to give them this second chance and I would prefer not to subject them to any further complications.” He turned and walked away, dismissing the archangel with a wave. “But I, unlike you and your brothers, follow the dictates of our Father. If it is his will the Triad should speak to you lot, then speak to you they will – at the party. Now run along, Michael. I’m sure your brothers have concerns of their own for you to hear.”

Michael took a deep breath, relaxing his hands which had tensed around his sword handles. “Metatron was a fool” he muttered, his wings taking him up to where his brothers were waiting. “This one is arrogant – and too bright to dismiss out of hand.”

Gabriel watched as his brother landed nearby, marching over to him with “that look” on his face. “What did Zaphiel say?”

“To stop acting like spoiled little brats and do as Father has commanded” Michael shot back, still agitated. “We are to attend this “party” of Lucifer’s and deal with an errant, possibly Fallen angel so that the Triad can deal with other matters.”

Gabriel sighed. “The invitation was from the young Queen – not Lucifer. I will be glad to see that she and her brothers are well, no matter what else is expected of us.”

Michael shot a look at his twin, cursing himself for forgetting Gabriel’s grief when he learned he had lost his beloved son. “Brother, I’m sorry. I…”

Gabriel laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Stop – don’t apologize. None of this was your doing. Father set us a task and a test of our faith and we all failed it miserably. At least the young ones still live, still serve Heaven as we had planned for them to do. And I’m sure your Alex is doing the best he can to keep Vega moving towards the Light, just as you taught him to do.”

Michael’s eyes dropped to his boots. “Alex was my student. Andre was more your son than your protégé. I should never forget what you have had to pay for me to allow my Chosen to live and prosper along with his reality.”

Gabriel wrapped his arm around his brother and squeezed gently. “Little one, let your pain go. We have a chance to know this Triad, to see how they have changed, have grown since they were taken from us. Our Father is giving us this second chance – don’t let your sorrow rob you of it.”

Michael leaned his head on his twin’s. “Do you ever wish, Gabriel, that things could be as they were before the war? When we were the center of our Father’s creations. When Samael was the spoiled child of the family and the two of you would bicker and banter for ages over little things, only to end up laughing and singing to the rest of us?”

“I try not to dwell on that time” Gabriel admitted. “It hurts too much to know how it changed us. Come, let’s collect our young brothers. Uriel will be interested to know what is expected of us – he might be able to find some useful information to arm ourselves with before we leave.”

‘Yes Gabriel” Michael whispered, leaning into his brother’s embrace. “Let us go forward prepared for whatever awaits us.”


	5. T-minus 3 hours - and the guests are arriving

T-Minus 3 hours – the guests are arriving early

In Lux

Cernunnos – the horned god of Celtic mythology (known as Hern the Hunter) – looked around the club with approval. He hefted the large screen TV panel in place, watching as one of the Wild Hunt attached it to its base and started wiring it to the console in the D.J. station set up near the bar. “Interesting” he growled, poking around in the dark corners created by the club’s curtains and stages, making sure all the cables leading to the display were well hidden. “One could have quite a good hunt here.” 

“Not in my club you don’t” Lucifer snarled, coming down the stairs from his apartment. His black tuxedo blended into the dim lighting, making him appear a shadow as he walked. “I’m not sure what your queen has told you about tonight…”

The giant godling smirked down at the being who had once been Prince of Hell. “She has told me that a party is to be held in this place to honor our ancestors, Morningstar, and that she expected me to be on my best behavior.” He looked around the room at the figures milling on the edges of the dancefloor. “She did not, however, specify what “best behavior” she was expecting of me. I suspect she was leaving that to my discretion.”

“Just wait till I get my hands on that little hellcat” Lucifer fumed. “Bringing in these wild shades to man my bar, having a flat screen TV installed over it, on top of piling barrels of some noxious potion in my storage areas. She and I are going to have discussion on using my property as though it were her own.”

“She most likely does consider it hers” Cernunnos commented, finding a spot on the edge of one the dance cages for him to lean on. “At least for tonight.”

“Uh, Lucifer” Linda’s voice called out from the elevator. She stared, wide-eyed at the huge figure wearing huge ram’s horns standing in front of her patient, wondering if it would be worth the effort for her to make a run for the door. “One of the… bouncers… just said the guests are arriving early.”

“Of course they are” Cernunnos bellowed, rattling shelves with the force of his voice. “All must be in their places before the Court of the King is convened.”

“Court?” Lucifer’s voice took on a strained tone, as though he were valiantly trying not to snap the figure in front of him in half. “This is a party – not a Royal Court.”

“It’s technically both” a lilting, accented voice replied from the bar area. Marie Laveau, the Vodoo Queen of New Orleans, floated out of the shadows to join the group. She was dressed in bright, Creole style layered skirt and blouse with a white cotton chemise peeking out from under the hem with her dark hair covered by a colorful turban and gold jewelry flashing from around her neck and arms. Marie nodded to the creature on the floor and smiled reassuringly at the human behind the Prince of Hell. “There will be a quick Court held when the Triad returns from their journey and then – when all is said and done as it must be – the party will start.”

Lucifer eyed her suspiciously. “What business could they have to deal with that couldn’t be dealt with in the Fae realm? And what journey are they taking right before the bloody party that THEY insisted on hosting?”

Marie shrugged gracefully. “I am not sure, old Devil, but whatever it is my King and Queen will make sure it does not interrupt the festivities too much. They are as anxious to partake of the food, drink and entertainment as are their guests.” She turned and started back towards the kitchen area, humming a creole tune under her breath. 

“Wait one minute.” Lucifer’s voice had taken on a brittle, angry air. “Does this have anything to do with inviting my estranged brothers to the party?”

Marie smiled mysteriously. “You should ask my petite belle about that, old one. I am only here to make sure she has a hot meal and a friendly ear during the party.” She disappeared into the darkness again, the tune she was humming still hanging in the air.

Linda’s eyes flicked towards the club entrance as new figures made themselves known. “You have company” she hissed, pointing towards the creatures making themselves visible.

Lucifer glared across the dance floor. “Wonderful. I knew I should have made her scrub that list.” He glared as a young woman in a short Grecian tunic and leather laced-up sandals walked up, followed by an assortment of young men of various ethnicities, all dressed in colorful garb. ‘Well, if it isn’t Artemis the Huntress. Whatever brings the former Goddess of the Hunt to my establishment?”

The young woman rolled her eyes at the Devil’s tone. “I’m here for the King’s Court and to have a little amusement with my friend. There is no quarrel between us, Morningstar, so let’s not look for issues where they don’t exist. Unlike others of my ilk I have no qualms about not being worshiped as a Goddess anymore. It’s more a blessing to not have followers to watch over than a curse.”

Linda looked at the young men behind the “Goddess of the Hunt” with interest. “Are they…with you?” she asked curiously.

Artemis looked behind her as the group spread out, interacting with the members of the Wild Hunt or with each other. “They are, like myself, avatars of the natural order. Once mankind considered them gods – but in fact they, like me, are only the embodiments of natural magic. And they are all in good standing with the Crown.”

“And looking for a good time and an open bar” Cernunnos threw in with a wild laugh.

Artemis shrugged, a small smile on her face. “That too.” She wandered off in the direction of the kitchen, calling out a greeting to the witches working there.

“This is going to be a very interesting evening” Linda observed.

“You don’t know the half of it” Amenadiel’s voice called out as he sprinted up to his brother. “Brother – we need to talk.”

In the jungles of Mexico

Rowan winced as the explosion echoed across the valley, sending rock and vegetation flying. “I really need to tell the Silent Ones not to use so much C4” she muttered, gathering her weapons. She laid a hand one of the few tress still standing as the ground rocked beneath her. “The layline under the pyramid was more unstable than I thought. Good thing the only human community nearby was a drug lab belonging to one of the cartels Can’t work up too much sympathy for them losing their product – or their lives.” 

A thump behind her alerted her to the arrival of one of her team. “An Earthquake?” Arthur’s voice hissed in her ear. “Really? Blowing up the pyramid wasn’t enough – you had to call up an earthquake?” Her elder brother stepped out of the vegetation, his armor covered in blood with his King’s Sword firmly gripped in his hand. A bloody gash marred his handsome face, spreading from the top of one eyebrow, across his nose to just under the other eye. The leather covering his hands was soaked in gore and torn, an example of the close-in fighting he had just experienced. Behind him was Jenkins, the Great Library’s Caretaker, hefting a tall shield over his shoulder and carrying a sheathed Crusader sword. The old Caretaker looked somewhat the worse for wear with a nasty wound at the hairline which was bleeding profusely into his eyes. He rolled his eyes at Rowan and Arthur, grumbling as he maneuvered the shield into a more comfortable position on his back. 

“You might have warned me you were playing with explosives – and with blowing up laylines” Jenkins grumbled. He pulled his blade from its sheath and wiped the blood blade on his leg. “I almost went head-first into the crevasse that explosion created.”

“Sorry about that, little brother” Arthur growled, strapping his sword and sheath across his back. “But pyrotechnics are my sister’s domain. If you have a complaint – take it up with her. Right now I just want to know where my baby brother has disappeared to.”

“Last I saw him” Rowan replied calmly, “he was setting fire to the last available exit from the temple structure. He and his monks should be joining us any time now.” She reached up gently to wipe her brother’s bloody face, frowning at the gash across his nose. “That looks deep.”

Arthur caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Not as bad as it looks, Sissy. Don’t worry – I’ll heal.” He eyed her critically, still holding her hand tightly in his own. “What about you? Anything I should be worried about?”

“Nothing a long, hot soak in my tub won’t cure” she said reassuringly. 

“Hey guys!” Khan’s booming voice sailed over what was left of the tree line as he and his monks, in their dragon guises, soared to a stop. The young abbot was covered in soot with bruises on his face and hands from where he had been forced to fend off creatures desperate to escape the flames he and his monks were spreading. “What the bloody hell was THAT?”

“You mean our sister trying to sink half of Middle America into the ground by blowing up a layline?” Arthur replied sarcastically. “Oh that was nothing. You should see what she does when she’s REALLY pissed off.”

“You said, in your best imitation of a dalek, that we should exterminate them. So I did. Maybe I set a fire or two more than I needed to but it worked, didn’t it?” Rowan watched the fire race across the jungle floor, destroying everything in its path – including any wayward cultists who might have been fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to escape the pyramid. “The local militia and or the local cartels will be arriving soon to try to control the spread of the flames. I’d rather not be here when they show up.”

“What about the rest of your soldiers?” Jenkins asked, replacing his sword in its scabbard. “And where the bloody hell is your father?”

“Uncle Vlad is waiting with my second-in-command Eric in the Between” Khan replied, snatching an ember out of the air and popping it into his mouth like candy. “Had him lead our guys out when the earth started to move under our feet. My men were the last to go through and will be headed back to the Temple grounds by now.” He motioned to the fire drakes at his back and they calmly took flight, disappearing into the rising mist of the Between.

“Casualties?” Arthur asked solemnly. 

“Not as many as I had thought” Rowan replied, equally somber. “No deaths – just a lot of injuries. Some were pretty severe but I think Khan and his healers can save them.”

Khan cocked his head sideways, examing his brother’s injuries. “You know – I can fix that. You might even still be as pretty as you are now when I’m done.”

“Good for you” Arthur sighed. “I may just let you do that. But for right now, little brother, since you've sent what is left of our forces back to the Fae lands we can head to the Library.”

“Why the Library” Jenkins asked, trying to relax his shoulders and back. Arthur had been right – it had been a long time since he had wielded a sword and shield in battle.The soreness he was feeling now would be nothing compared to what he would be experiencing tomorrow. And the nightmares of what he had seen – and done – would hopefully not be as they were when he was a young knight coming off his first battleground. “Combination of minutes of boredom overlaid with seconds of horror. Just like when he first started training me” the old soldier thought wistfully.

“We need to clean up quick and head to Lux. Plus – we have our backup to retrieve as well. He’ll go there rather than home since he knows we have you with us.” Arthur plucked Jenkins shield from his back, ignoring the man’s protests. “Let it alone, little brother. My shield broke back there during the first assault so I might as well carry yours. By the way, you acquitted yourself well in that clusterfuck of a battle. You all did.”

Rowan smiled proudly at her brothers. “We always do well when we’re united in a cause.” She stared off into the distance, eyes narrowing as she focused on a point beyond the flames. “I suspect the war isn’t over yet. Their “master” will soon know what has been done.”

Arthur shrugged. “Of course it’s not over. And frankly don’t care what their boss knows or doesn’t know. He’s toast – just doesn’t know it yet. But the major pain is over and done with. That hole in the walls of Hell will not be opened – not by the Brujeria, not by some renegade angel with a grudge, not by anyone.”

“Amen to that” Jenkins whispered, leaning on his friend as the ground rocked again under them.

“We’d best be on our way before the aftershocks do what the cult couldn’t and send us to our dubious reward in the Silver City. We can talk about what comes next after we’ve cleaned up.” Rowan raised her arms and the sound of wind chimes filled the air, signaling the retreat of the last of Heaven’s Guardians from the field of battle.

In the Library

“Anyone seen Jenkins?” Stone called out, adjusting his black duster to better hide the revolver at his hip. 

Baird, clad in her Army dress blues, tugged at the jacket trying to adjust the fit. “Haven’t seen him for a while. His costume still here?”

Cassandra skipped out, her long skirt flowing around her. “I don’t think he thinks of it as a costume” she corrected with a smile.

Baird grinned. “No – I suppose he doesn’t.” She moved a few boxes on the large table and pointed triumphantly. “We’re all going blind. Here’s his tunic.”

Stone frowned. “Yeah, but where’s that barn door he was planning on carrying as well? I don’t see it anywhere.” He poked around the empty boxes strewn around the room, his frown deepening. “And where’s that monster of a sword I saw him unpacking? It’s not here either.”

Flynn strolled in, bullwhip over his shoulder. “Maybe he decided they were too heavy to deal with all night? We are going to a party, after all, not medieval recreation of war” He linked arms with Baird, glancing approvingly at her trim figure in her formal uniform. “Looking very smart there, Col. Baird. But I still think you should have worn the gown you wore during our binding ceremony.”

Baird smiled. “I’m comfortable in this – and becides with everything that’s been happening in the last few months…I think it would be better for me to be in something I can move in.” She glanced over a Stone with a grin. “So – Jake – going as a cowboy after all?”

Stone shrugged. “Sort of – going as Wyatt Earp. Figured if I had to be dressed as a cowboy I should at least pick one whose story I could get behind.” He looked around again, kicking at the empty boxes. “Where’s Jones?”

“Right here mate” the Aussie’s chipper voice called out. Ezekiel came into the common area dressed to the nines, in a velvet smoking jacket and ascot. His cocky grin widened as he took in the shocked look on his friend’s faces. “What do you think?”

Cassandra cleared her throat carefully. ‘I thought you were going as some master thief from literature.”

Flynn giggled at the team’s stunned looks. “The character of Raffles was a man-about-town as well as skillful thief. Jones’ costume is perfect for that representation!”

Ezekiel smiled. “So – let’s get the party started. Fire up the door and let’s head back to Lux!”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Jenkins?” Cassandra asked, hesitantly.

Flynn shrugged. “He’ll catch up.” Striding over to the globe, he gave the back door’s controls a quick twist, setting it spinning until it opened, showing the sidewalk in front of the elegant club. Holding out a hand to Baird he motioned through the door. “Shall we?”

Baird gave him a smile and waved the others through first before taking her companion’s hand. “By all means – let’s party.” 

Neither noticed the door go black after they had passed through it – or saw it spin again as it was opened from outside.


	6. The party is about to be in full swing

T-minus 5 minutes till official party launch – everything is in full swing

Chloe blinked as she peered from the shadowy door leading into the club. Lucifer’s “Halloween party to end all parties” was in full swing and the guests were making the most of the moment. She wondered, bleakly, how many of the strange people she was looking at were even “people”. Finding out her civilian consultant was the one and only Prince of Hell had made the detective wary of taking ANYTHING at face value anymore. “Wonder where Lucifer is?” she muttered, edging closer to the door.

“Invitation?” a voice hissed in her ear. Turning, surprised, she looked up into the face of a bouncer she did not recognize. The man – if that was what he was – wasn’t much taller than she was but had the build of a runner, all well defined lean muscle mass. His youthful face, framed by silver white hair, was ghostly pale and his eyes were almost yellow in the odd neon light of the entrance. An assortment of gold earrings gleamed under his untidy hairstyle and odd tattoo's seemed to crawl up his bare arms. He was dressed in clothes too casual for the usually trendy bar – jeans and a t-shirt – but a Lux name tag on his chest proclaimed him part of the staff - at least for tonight. He glared at her empty hands for a moment then took a position in front of the door. “No invitation – no entry.”

She frowned. “I’m a friend of the owner’s. If you will just tell him Detective Decker is here…”

The bouncer frowned, his eyes darkening. “No invitation – no entrance.”

Chloe gritted her teeth. “Please tell Lucifer that…”

The bouncer moved a step forward, forcing her backwards. “Not his party tonight. The Firebird sets the rules – not the Morningstar.”

“Chloe!” Linda’s voice wafted out of the noisy crowd. The psychiatrist edged her way warily around the bouncer to greet her friend warmly. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I would come have a word with Lucifer but this new bouncer of his…”

Linda turned dubiously towards the man still standing in the door. “Oh, yeah – him. It’s a private party tonight, Chloe. Lucifer rented the club out to some relatives of his and they are really, really strict about who gets in and who doesn’t.”

“But its Lucifer’s club” Chloe pointed out in exasperation. “And, well…”

“And he’s the devil and so everyone should not piss him off?” a voice hissed out of the alleyway. Maze, dressed in a leather corset and tight leather pants sauntered over to the two women, a predatory smile on her face. Or what was left of her face. Part of it appeared to be nothing but scars, torn away long enough in the past that the skin had healed over into a web of lines and wrinkled flesh. “Not tonight, Decker. Tonight, the Royal House of the Fae rules and even Lucifer has to take a back seat.”

Chloe swallowed, trying desperately not to show how shocked she was by the face her former roommate was presenting. Finding out that Lucifer actually WAS the Devil had been hard enough but realizing that she had been allowing one of his demons free access to her home and child had almost been too much. And now seeing what that demon actually looked like without the glamour of her human face...“Look – all I want is to tell Lucifer I’m willing to talk to him about what I saw. That’s all. Can one of you at least go inside and ask him to step out and speak to me?”

Maze shrugged. “I’ll go. Things are pretty quiet out here so they don’t need me to man the gates. But just a warning, Decker. None of the creatures you MIGHT see in there have any great love for humans. So if he does manage to get you past the front door, you’d best be on your best behaviors. And leave the gun in the coat room. I don’t think the party’s hosts would appreciate being shot at their own event.” She turned and walked seductively past the doorman, whispering something in his ear that seemed to amuse him no end. 

“Linda” Chloe asked, hesitantly. “When I called you after Pierce’s death – you already knew what I was going to ask you. How long have you known about Lucifer?”

The doctor shrugged. “A while. And don’t ask me why I never talked to you about it. You didn’t believe him when he constantly told you he was the Devil – what makes you think you would have believed me?”

Chloe shook her head. “But…’

“Detective! How nice to see you again!” Lucifer’s voice, oozing charm, preceded him from the club entrance. His expensive, tailored tux clothed him in darkness, making the detective all the more nervous about her reasons for coming. “Sadly, you’ve picked rather an awkward time. My niece…”

Flashes of the memory of seeing his face after Pierce’s death, images she had ruthlessly pushed to the back of her mind, floated up again. Until…“You have a niece?” Chloe blurted out, stunned.

“Well – yes and no actually. She use to be my brother’s student and companion so technically I suppose you could have called her family.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Now, I just call her a hellcat.” His eyes roamed over the street, frowning as more guests arrived from the ether, invitations in hand. “You know – this isn’t a very comfortable place to talk. Why don’t we…”

“Your bouncer won’t let me in without an invitation” Chloe said, glancing over as the doorman took up another set of guest’s red envelope and allowed them in.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” a deep voice commented from behind. Chloe turned to look up at a lean figure dressed in plain, medieval style jacket, dark pants, white cotton shirt and knee-high boots along with a plumed hat. At his side was another, equally tall and lean figure dressed much as Lucifer was – in an old-fashioned Victorian style black tux. The first man smiled, sharp, pointed teeth barely visible over his lip. “As my daughter is the instigator of this nightmare, I think I can “convince” our little friend at the door to allow you entrance.”

“Thank you, Mr.…” Chloe’s voice petered off, uncertainly. She held out her hand, wondering if this was even a man or even human she was standing in front of. “I’m Det. Chloe Decker, LAPD. And you are?”

“Dragón. Vladamir Dragón. At your service my dear.” He gave her a courtly bow and then waved her off towards the door. “And this is my friend Zaphiel.”

Chloe looked dubiously up at the other older man standing quietly behind Dragón. He was eyeing her with a coldly detached air, as though she were some sort of new insect for him to study. “Hello?” she said, offering her hand to him as well. 

Zaphiel looked down at her hand expressionlessly. “Vlad, tell that insect at the door to move it along. Your young ones will be arriving soon – and so will the subject of the tribunal.”

Vlad sighed. “So little patience for such a long lived creature.” He flashed that quick, chilling smile at the detective then strolled casually up to the door and swiftly pinned the bouncer to the wall with one hand. “Să lăsăm femeia în club sau eu personal să-ți pun regele în viața ta mizerabilă.”he hissed, shaking the creature for good measure. Dropping the bouncer to the ground, Vlad turned with a smile and motioned for them to enter before him.

“What did he say?” Chloe whispered, looking at Lucifer doubtfully as she and Linda carefully maneuvered past the prone doorman.

“Let the woman in to the club or I will personally have your king end your miserable life.” Lucifer translated. “I’d say you’ll have no further problems in getting into the party – if that is really what you want to do.”

“At this point, what do you have to lose by coming in” Linda said, linking her arm through Chloe’s. “You wanted to talk – might as well see what all there is to talk about.”

In the Library

Jenkins stumbled as he and the Triad entered the Library. “I really need to work on that” he muttered, vainly brushing embers off his now ash covered gambeson.

“You have bigger things to worry about than a less-than smooth portal” Rowan replied, carefully picking her way around the older man. Her eyes lit up at the sight of a set of duffel bags piled in the center of the room. “Oh good – he got here with our stuff.”

Arthur gently moved Jenkins out of the way of the backdoor and looked over at the bags quizzically. “So where is he?”

“Probably poking around the Library” Khan replied, yanking his chain-mail coat over his head. “You know he’s the most paranoid being I’ve ever met. Probably looking to see if anything might have snuck in after the Librarians left.”

“Considering their track record around here” Arthur began, grinning at Jenkins disgruntled look. “I know, little brother, they are good at what they do. But really! How many times has someone just walked into this place unannounced and put everything at risk!”

“Let’s start with Lancelot and his little scorpions” Rowan said matter-of-factly. “Then, of course, there were the assorted Fictionals. And let’s not forget DOSA…”

“I see your point, Queen Rowan” Jenkins said stiffly.  
“She’s just doing it to be aggravating” Arthur reassured, dropping his sword and gloves on the long table. “So – where do we get a shower around here?” 

Jenkins sighed. “Col. Baird insisted on having a decontamination room set up just in case of some artifact coving the Librarians with some noxious element. It’s through there” he waved vaguely in the direction of the door.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, little brother” Arthur laughed. “It’s a big library and “through there” could mean almost anything.”

Jenkins smiled ruefully. “My apologies. I forget how large this place really is sometimes. It’s not far – only two levels down. We’ll need to set up a curtain so that your sister can have some privacy” He glanced around the room, trying to remember where he had last stored the long canvas sheeting he had used to cover some of the more fragile artifacts.

Arthur and Khan looked at their friend blankly. “Why?” Arthur asked. “It’s not like she hasn’t seen it all at some point. Hell, she’s seen all my bits and bobs on numerous occasions – hasn’t scarred her yet. In point of fact – the only male I know for sure she hasn’t seen stark naked is father. And that would be just too disturbing – even for me.”

Khan nodded with a grin. “Yeah – me too. Though I don’t mind her seeing ME nude. Not like I have anything to be ashamed of in that department. And we’re kind of pressed for time so let’s all just get naked and clean up together. Be faster.”

Jenkins glared at the two men in front of him. “Just because you two have no sense of modestly or decorum doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Rowan laughed. “They’re just trying to rile you up. I’m sure there is tub around here SOMEWHERE I can use to wash up while you three hit the showers.”

Arthur groaned in mock dismay. “Oh Gods –NO! Let that cat near a bathtub and we’ll be waiting on her until New Years. Besides which – the only “tub” you’re likely to find here is an artifact and I don’t fancy having to try to figure out what spell is needed to get you out of whatever situation that artifact puts you in.”

“Hence the reason to…” Jenkins began, his muscles starting to ache.

“No – we’re NOT going to throw a sheet over something just so I can get a bath” Rowan laughed. “I’m pretty sure some of the collections you have include a water source for the creatures living in them. I can clean off there and meet you three back at Lux.”

“Meet us?” Jenkin asked, puzzled.

“Means she’ll catch a ride with our godfather” Arthur said smugly. “I’m betting they have an entrance planned, don’t you?”

“I’ll never tell” Rowan sang out, snagging her duffle and starting off down the corridor, shedding her armor – and clothes as she walked.

“And she gets on me for leaving my dirty clothes on the floor” Arthur rumbled, barely controlling the smile at his old friend’s shocked expression. “Come on, brothers, I’m tired of smelling like a charnel house. Let’s get cleaned up and get the party started!”

Khan’s whoop of happy agreement echoed down the hall.

In the Heavenly Realm

Uriel sheathed his short sword and examined his buckler with interest. “Will we need shields?” he asked Rafael, who was tightening his own sword belt. “If so – I’d rather take my normal shield than that little thing.”

“Everything looks little to you, brother” Rafael rumbled, taking a swipe at the back of his twin’s head. “It’s supposed to be a party – not mortal combat.”

“Not according to what Zaphiel told Michael” Uriel insisted. “If we are to deal with an angel who has chosen to Fall…”

“I suspect we’re be there more as witnesses rather than weapons” Rafael mused, straightening his cloak. “That bloody Throne wouldn’t have requested our presence otherwise. He’s more a control freak than…”

“Then I am” Michael’s voice floated down to them as he landed nearby. Like his younger brother’s he was dressed in full armor, his two swords on his hips. “Is that what you were about to say, brother?”

“Yes” Rafael replied solemnly. “You want to control everything about a situation whether it’s a battlefield or …”

“Or a relationship” Michael finished with a sigh. “Now is not the time to argue my faults, little brother. I know very well all I did wrong with my Chosen One.”

“Not talking about Alex” Rafael grumbled, staring down at his feet.

“Nor was I” Michael agreed sadly.

“Are we ready?” Gabriel floated in behind Michael, his cloak fluttering around him. Unlike his brothers, Heaven’s Messenger was dressed more as a negotiator than a soldier, with no weapon or armor in sight.

“Gabriel” Michael began softly. “Are you forgetting something?”

The Archangel looked down at himself and then at his brother with a small smile. “Not that I can see.”

“Have you forgotten whose house we are about to enter?” Michael’s voice became steely. “Where are your weapons?”

“Gabriel shrugged. “I did well enough in Vega without a sword in my hand. Besides which, Lucifer didn’t invite us to this party. The Fae Crown did – and they will, I’m sure, keep the peace.”

“Brother, I know you are anxious to see your child” Michael began.

“Brother, you know nothing at all about what is in my mind or heart” Gabriel’s voice had taken on that same, intense emotional tone he had used when first he had been told of their Father’s actions. “The boy isn’t my son anymore. Father has made that very clear. And I, for one, will not push him to acknowledge a life he doesn’t remember living. The Judge has asked for us to attend his Tribunal and be there when this lower angel hears his fate. So be it – and if I happen to have time to speak to this new incarnation of the boy I raised then all the better. Now are you three coming or not?” He flexed his dark wings and prepared for the leap through the ether to the mortal realm.

Michael’s eyes fixed on his brother’s face. “So be it” he whispered, unfurling his own wingspan and leading them down to the steps of the Devil’s earthly home.


	7. Time to party!

Halloween night – party is ON!

In Lux 

Chloe cast a quick look around at the party-goers, wondering briefly where the two old men who had made it possible for her to enter had disappeared to. In most ways, the club didn’t seem all that different tonight than it did any other night. The lights were low, the music was loud and people (mostly in very skimpy attire) were milling around excitedly. She was relieved to see most of them at least LOOKED human. A few odd colored hairstyles, costumes that would make a Cosplayer drool and lots of very bright, colorful drinks. The only exception she could see was the tall guy in the corner with the massive horns on his head. “Uh, Lucifer?” she asked, pointing the creature’s directions.

Lucifer barely glanced over. “Ignore him. That’s just the Keeper of the Black Gates. I believe in some cultures he’s known as Hern the Hunter – though tonight he’s more like Hern the Inebriated.” He rolled his eyes at the bellowing laugh coming from the corner where the creature was standing. “He’ll be lucky if he’s still standing by the time the kids arrive.”

“The kids?” Chloe looked up at her friend (?) quizzically. She wasn’t sure exactly HOW to classify their relationship anymore though the longer she stood there the more she felt that perhaps running away had been a massive overreaction. Whatever else Lucifer was - Devil, Prince of Hell - he was still the partner who had saved her and Trixie from certain death. She would just have to figure out a way to pick through the information she had of him and the stories told about him to find the real creature underneath. 

Lucifer shrugged. “Yes – the Triad, my brothers kids, Dad’s favorite pets. However you want to describe them. They are supposed to be hosting this little soirée. But they appear to have decided to be fashionably late.”

Chloe glanced over at Linda, who had snagged two drinks – one for herself and one for Lucifer - and had handed them over. They were given to her by a bartender that the detective didn’t recognize, one she had never seen in the club before. Chloe frowned as she watched the creature juggling vodka bottles and glasses, wondering if the needles sticking out all over the woman’s (?) face were part of a costume or were really part of her skin. “I suppose I should have known you would have family other than Amenadiel. Where is he, by the way?”

Lucifer waved a nonchalant hand in the air. “Oh, I image he’s around here somewhere. He’ll turn up like a bad penny when we least expect it. Would you like a drink? It will make this experience more acceptable if you’re not quite sober.”

Chloe fought down the urge to agree, determined not to hide from uncomfortable (or unbelievable) truths anymore. “No thank you. So, Mr. Dragón and his friend Zaphiel – friends of yours?”

Lucifer choked on his drink. “Not exactly. Mr. Dragón is a rather distant cousin and Zaphiel...”

“Is his brother” an amused, English-accented voice replied. Chloe turned to look into the dark eyes of the man who had been introduced to her outside the club. Behind him she could see his friend talking to a beautiful, dark-skinned woman wearing colorful clothes and a silk turban. 

Zaphiel followed her eyes to the couple with a wicked grin. “That old dog is forever finding new ways to get himself into trouble. I should know. I’ve been following his illustrious career – both on the battlefield and in the bedroom – for as long as he’s been alive. The last female he courted was one of his own kind – and she did NOT take kindly to his wandering eye. I suspect this witch will be more of the same.”

“I heard that” Vlad called back, bowing to the woman in front of him before he joined the group. His voice, like Zaphiel and Lucifer, tagged him in Chloe’s mind as residents of the British Isles. Or at least they would have if she hadn’t known how different reality really was. Vlad’s plumed hat disappeared into the rear of the club with his new friend and his simple vest was partially unbuttoned to show the sparkling white shirt underneath. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been acquainted with that witch for a lot longer than most – and she’s content to let my eyes wander so long as I agree to allow her the same curtesy. We are neither of us monogamous creatures.”

“So you are just perfect for one another” Zaphiel drawled, linking his arm though his friend’s, in the style of old men from Eastern Europe who walked together without fear of censure. He gave the young detective a quick once-over, impressed that in the presence of so much supernatural power she wasn’t running screaming into the night. “I suspect you have questions, my dear. Please, feel free to ask. I, like my brother, do not lie so you can be assured of the answers you receive.”

Chloe fought down a smile at the two old men, arm and arm in such a psychedelic world. “So – you’re Lucifer’s brother. That would make you…?”

“An angel, mi dear” Vlad replied with a laugh. “Eldest of the choir of Heaven known as Thrones. They are supporters of the law and have been instrumental in inspiring some of the greatest legal documents written throughout history. All of Lucifer’s brothers are angels. Even the Morningstar himself was once a winged Child of God until he threw a temper tantrum and got kicked out of the Silver City.”

“Oh, now really!!!” Lucifer protested, slamming his drink on the bar top. “You have no idea what you are talking about!”

“I know my grandfather’s grandfather perished closing the Dark Gates to prevent the lower reaches of Heaven from being polluted by those creatures who joined in your little war” Vlad replied coolly. “I know my family has had to live among your Father’s little science experiments for millennium until he finally saw fit to allow the coming of the Phoenix King to bring our land back to the light. What more would you like me to know, old Scratch? That it wasn’t ALL your fault? That you never MEANT for the war to get so out of control?” Vlad laughed coldly “No – the war in Heaven probably wasn’t all your fault though you didn’t help matters. The Lord is omnipotent – he knew what was going to happen yet he let events unfold, probably as much as a lesson to those who remained about the wages of sin. Many of those who fell with you were far more damaged before the Fall than you ever were – and sending them to Hell to be punished was probably as expedient a decision as any other. If it were not for the fact that I think our Almighty Father should have put you over his knee and beat some good sense into you when you were a young fledgling…” 

Zaphiel shook his head. “I knew it was a mistake to put you two in the same room.”

Lucifer growled. “Look, this is still my home. I didn’t agree to have this nightmare scenario here just to be insulted by my nonexistent family.”

Chloe shot a quick glance at Lucifer. “Maybe…”

“Oh, don’t worry about him” Zaphiel reassured. “He’s got more to worry about than either of us. After all, dear brother, I saw that guest list our little girl presented you with. I really do hope you have good insurance – or whatever that is that humans take out to replace their damaged property. I have a feeling that by the end of the night you will need it.”

Linda tossed back her drink and motioned to the bartender for another. “Who else is coming?” the doctor asked calmly.

“Four of our other brothers, an exorcist and a lower angel who might, by the end of the night, have wished he’s stayed home.” Zaphiel looked out over the throbbing lights of the club as the party started to get loud. “Yes – tonight should be quite an interesting night indeed.”

Vlad’s eyes, riveted to the entrance, smiled. “Oh here come the Librarians from the Great Library. You really must meet them, old friend. They are quite the entertaining bunch.”

Chloe turned to see a group of people tumble through the entrance, staring about them in awe. “Are they angels too?” she asked, dubiously.

Vlad laughed. “No, mi dear. They are humans just like you. But unlike you, they understand there is a reality under the veil of normalcy you see around you. It is their job to protect human kind from magical interference and preserve wisdom of all kinds in the greatest repository of knowledge ever created – The Great Library.”

Chloe and Linda both stared at each other in surprise. “Why are they here tonight?” Linda asked, cautiously.

“One of their number is a friend to my son” Vlad replied, peering at the group still huddled around the door. “I’d best fetch them over here before one of this lot thinks it amusing to try to eat them.” He detached himself from his angelic friend and quickly worked his way over to the entrance, gently (and sometimes not so gently) moving other partygoers aside as he walked.

Chloe looked between Zaphiel and Lucifer, making note of the frown on her partner’s face and the smirk on his brother's. “Why do I have the feeling this party isn’t just an excuse to have a good time?”

“A good time will be had by all” Zaphiel assured her with a smirk. “Some more than others. And with that, dear brother, if I can have a moment of your time? I’m sure the ladies will excuse us.” He turned and glided into the darkness, disappearing near the office door.

Lucifer’s frown deepened. “I HATE when he goes all mysterious on me” he groused, giving a quick look at the dance floor. “If you two will excuse me, this shouldn’t take long.” He stomped off after his sibling, snagging a new drink on his way.

Chloe sighed and took a seat at the bar. “I guess we wait here.”

Linda watched as some of the “guests” started a rather spirited fire dance in the middle of the floor. “Sounds like a plan to me.”


	8. Party is jumping - and the Librarians arrive

Across the Club

Stone stumbled forward, almost falling on his face as Jones and Cassandra barreled into his back. “Hey, watch where you’re going!” he groused, straightening his duster as he moved. From the sounds coming from the main area, the party was already in full swing with what sounded like jazz being played loud enough to rock the walls. The enticing scent of food wafted through, reminding him he hadn't eaten before they left. 

Baird and Flynn tumbled through behind the others, steading themselves as they crossed the club’s threshold. “Really need to get Jenkins to work on that first step” Baird muttered. "One of these days we're going to fall over something dangerous."

Flynn looked around happily, enthralled by the sights like a kid in a candy store. In front of them, beings of every shape, size and color mixed happily, gathering in small groups in corners to talk or taking to the dance floor to shimmy to the music. “Oh this is too good! There are High Fae here, members of the Tuatha Dé Danann perhaps? Or maybe…”

“Take a breath, Skippy. We’ve got all night to do the whole meet and greet thing.” Baird glanced up and notice a slender figure hurrying towards them. “Looks like we managed to get the attention of the doorman.” She watched as the silver-haired young man flew across to the door they had entered from, a frown on his face.

“Hey!” he growled, stopping just short of Baird. “Private party. No invitations – no admittance.” He glared at the group, taking in their "Halloween" costumes with a sniff.

Baird handed over her invitation with a steady hand, trying to ignore the almost claw-like appendage that snatched it from her. “Here’s mine. Everyone – give the man you invitations.”

The doorman grabbed the red envelopes from the humans in front of him, growling almost animalistic ally as he examined them. “You lot are mortal – I can smell it on you. Invitations or not – you need to go NOW!”

“No, they do not” Vlad stepped out of the shadows, his dark eyes raking the unfortunate doorman with scorn. “You truly do not learn, do you young Fae? Hi sunt amici Regis. Iisdem vestris periculo.”

“What did he say?” Ezekiel asked, looking back at Stone.

“These are friends of the King. Deny them at your own risk” Stone translated, watching the doorman’s already pale complexion go almost waxy white as what little color he had fled his cheeks. The creature glared at the humans for a moment then turned and ran for the front door.

Vlad sighed melodramatically. “You really can’t get good help these days” he complained plaintively. He smiled reassuringly at the group in front of him. “Welcome to our first ever Halloween party, my dear Librarians. Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring.”

“Isn’t that…’ Stone asked, suspiciously.

“Yes – lovely phrase isn’t it. I’ve been dying to use it on someone who might actually recognized it.” Vlad winked at the Librarians. “It would be more appropriate if you were entering my home but since my children are playing hosts for this party – you take what you can get.”

Baird grinned, enjoying another chance to talk to the old warlord. “So true. Quite the crowd you have here.”

Vlad beamed at her. “Yes – an excellent turnout for a gathering not in the realm. Most are representatives of their kind but a few have more a more personal relationship with my children.”

Flynn turned from watching a set of human-form sprites flitter across the dance floor. “And speaking of your kids…”

“The boys should be here soon” Vlad responded, watching as a new set of invitee’s entered the club. One was carrying a large snake around her shoulders, identifying her as part of the entertainment. “Rowan and her godfather should be right behind them. They had an errand to run before they could make the party.”

“Godfather?” Cassandra asked, watching as a very drunk, spikey haired creature was “helped” to a seat to the side of dance floor by others of his kind.

“Yes – you’ll meet him soon enough.” Vlad replied, motioning them to follow him. “But for now – why don’t you follow me to the bar. There are other human guests there and frankly, with the crush of excitable Fair Folk and others of the magical community attending this party, I think I would feel better if you were all together in one place where you weren’t likely to get stepped on. Come along now – follow me.” He started back across the crowded floor, guests parting like a wave in front of the old warlord as he led the slightly dazed Librarians back towards the bar.

Chloe watched as the group picked their way over to where she and Linda had found a quiet spot to set up. “Who are they again?” she whispered.

Linda looked up from her drink and squinted. “I think Lucifer told me they are Librarians.”

Chloe eyed her friend – and her friend’s drink – with suspicion. “Librarians? In Lux? At a Halloween party filled with supernatural creatures hosted by the Prince of Hell?”

Linda shrugged. “They were on the guest list. I got the impression from Lucifer these people were friends of his niece’s. “

“I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that the Devil has a niece” Chloe commented, staring down at her drink. 

“A niece and two nephews” Linda replied, pushing her half-finished drink aside. “I think Amenadiel has met them so he could tell you more. Wish he were here right now.” She watched as the elder Fae and his guests approached the bar, with assorted beings falling in behind them.

Vlad turned to the creatures who had followed, his eyes red. “Redire. Hi sunt vobis.” he growled, lowering his head so that the creatures could see his flame-red eyes.

“Get back. These are not for you” Stone translated, herding Cassandra and Jones in front of him as they took up space beside the bar.

Vlad sighed, his eyes returning to their normal state as he turned. “They are just curious. Most have never seen humans this close before. They will not bother you now that they know you belong here.” He motioned to the bartender and pressed a round of drinks into the Librarian’s hands. “But just in case – let me suggest you not leave your seats unless Lucifer, myself or my friend Zaphiel accompany you.”

"Who?" Flynn asked, looking away from the dance floor for the first time.

"Zaphiel. He's the family lawyer - and my sparring partner when it comes to games of chance. Or Chess. Or Go. Actually - any game will do. Which is where I suspect he's gone off to now. I really should hang a bell on him." The old man's face broke into a sly grin - showing off his pointed canines to advantage.

“I’ll look out for them.” Maze stepped out of the shadows, a drink in her hand. “Wouldn’t want the kids to get pissed off – especially during their own party.” She smiled a predatory smile at the Librarians, specifically aimed at Stone who looked away in confusion.

Vlad shrugged. “I’m not so much concerned about making the children angry as their reaction to having their special guests disappear before the main event. Most of these Fair Folk know better but all it takes is one fool to set his own house on fire with ill-placed words or deeds.”

Maze shrugged, unconcerned. “I can handle it” she purred, pulling out a chair beside Linda.

“See that you do, demon. Because unless I miss my guess the Archangels will be arriving soon – and we both know it wouldn’t take much to move them to war.” Vlad swept off, headed for the kitchen area, a pair of beer bottles clutched in one hand.

Chloe looked over at the tall blonde in the military uniform. “So – I guess its introductions all around?” she asked, holding out her hand. “Detective Chloe Decker, L.A. P.D.”

“Col. Eve Baird, formerly NATO counterintelligence. Currently Guardian to the Librarian in the Great Library.” Eve ticked off the introductions one by one, ending with Flynn who was still staring at the odd assortment of supernatural beings in attendance. “So – what brings a cop to a Halloween party thrown by the Devil?” 

Chloe shrugged. “Lucifer was – is – my civilian consultant. We’ve worked a number of homicides together.”

“I’m going to assume you only recently learned that he really IS the Devil” Flynn murmured, snatching a drink off a passing tray.

“How did you know…” Chloe asked, startled.

“Don’t ask” Baird warned with a smile. “He will go off on a Sherlock Holmes type rant for hours if you let him. Don’t feel too bad, though. We only found out about him almost a year ago when he dropped into the Library to wish Rowan a Happy Birthday.”

“Rowan?” Chloe asked, confused.

“His niece” Cassandra said, staring doubtfully down at the drink in her hand. “She is the Queen of Fae. Only she wasn’t the same person he thought she was.”

“Long story” Baird replied, motioning the Librarians to get comfortable. "Here's a quick question for you - did you have a case a while back dealing with human trafficking?"

"No. Why?" Chloe asked, perplexed.

"Just checking" Baird murmurred, ticking off one more item on her list of things to verify. God, it seemed, had been very thorough in changing the Triad's reality. Very thorough indeed. "So - I'm going to assume you have questions for us?"

"You have no idea" Chloe responded, signaling for another drink.


	9. Everyone who is anyone is at the CLUB!

Back Lux's front door

John Constantine, in his standard rumpled trench coat reeking of cigarette smoke, nonchalantly waved the red invitation in the face of the doorman, a not-so-human figure who was obviously having a bad night. “Here you go, luv. All right and proper so just step aside and…”

“Another mortal?” the creature growled, staring down at the envelope. “Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful. Go on – the rest of your kind are huddled around the bar with Lucifer’s demon.” He tossed the missive on a pile of other similar red envelopes and stared off into space, studiously ignoring the scruffy man in front of him.

“Well – that’s blood rude” John muttered to himself, stepping carefully into the club. The mention of Lucifer had only served to heighten his paranoia about the invitation to a High Fae gathering. And Manny, his guardian angel, choosing to remain invisible as he crossed the club’s threshold hadn’t made the situation any better. John noticed a few pairs of red eyes swiveling back to stare at him as he moved through the door. Or more precisely, at the space behind him. “Manny, old sod. Looks like you’re not as invisible as you think you are.”

Manny materialized beside him, his wings tucked out of sight. “Of course not” he hissed in John’s ear. “This place is warded with Fae magic. I TOLD you this was a bad idea.”

“Yes, you did” John replied slowly, eyes sweeping across the dance floor, taking in all the assorted magical creatures mingling together happily. “Makes me wonder why you’re so all fired up for me NOT to be here.” He glanced up as the giant television screen which had been above the bar moved to a space off the dance floor where it could be easily seen by all. “What that’s all about?”

Manny eyed the flickering screen with concern. “It’s unimportant – we need to get out NOW.”

Constantine shrugged him off, looking over at the bar and the group of people huddled around it. He made note of the tall blond in the military uniform, the woman seated next to her with a gun hidden under her jacket and the red-head talking animatedly to the three men beside her. “One of those blokes has seen too many Indiana Jones movies” he chuckled, watching as one of the men dropped his bullwhip on the bar top. “They don’t look like magic users – wonder why they were invited to this little romp.”

“It really doesn’t matter” Manny replied through gritted teeth. “We need to GO!”

And with those words – the air seemed to grow still and cold and time itself seem to slow in its processing. Four figures, massive wings fluttering behind them, appeared in the center of the dance floor. The angels, armed for combat, stood back to back, looking in all directions, as they stared around the dance floor at the supernatural creatures who were melting back into the shadows. “What the bloody…” John muttered, stepping back into the darkness near the entrance.

“Archangels” Manny whispered, stepping back into the corner with the exorcist, trying his best to be invisible to his “brothers”. “They are the warriors of Heaven, God’s sons who protect mankind and all of our Father’s other works. Why are they here?”

“More importantly” John replied dryly, looking speculatively at the angel beside him “Why are you so scared?”

On the dance floor

Gabriel tucked his wings back and glanced around at the assorted stunned faces of the Fae and other creatures – most of whom had skittered out of the way of the armed Sons of Heaven. “Well – at least we still know how to make an entrance” he quipped dryly, looking back at his middle brother with amusement.

Rafael chocked back a laugh, glad to see his elder brother’s wry sense of humor had not totally been burned away by his grief. “Bloody Hell, Gabe, last time I saw this many Fair Folk and such gathered in one place and not trying to kill one another…”

“Was at Damien’s coronation” Uriel finished his brother’s thought, glaring at the horned master of the Dark Gates who was grinning evilly at them from a corner. “This won’t make things easy to manage. Why didn’t Zaphiel mention how many witnesses he would have to this miserable tribunal? And why, of all places, would he want to conduct it in the middle of a gathering of the Fae?”

“I dare say we’re not here to MANAGE the Fae, little brother” Gabriel replied, snagging a drink off a table and slamming it back, making a face at the over-sweet taste of whatever it was he had just swallowed. “We’re here to make sure that Fallen wretch who was assigned to watch over the Exorcist Constantine doesn’t escape his punishment.”

Michael’s eyes scanned the garishly lit bar warily, looking for the eldest of the Thrones or the angel they were there to contain. He focused, finally, on a set of familiar faces gathered around the long bar. “Aren’t those the Librarians at the bar? Why would they be here tonight?”

“A better question is why is the our brother Throne standing with them.” Gabriel replied, tossing back his drink quickly. “And where are our young ones?”

At the bar

Chloe shivered as the air grew colder, her eyes wide with shock as the four winged figures suddenly appeared on the dance floor. Even more shocking was that three of them were carrying swords and wearing armor – yet no one seemed overly concerned. “What just happened?” she whispered to Baird, who had pulled up a chair beside the young detective.

Baird squinted across the floor. “Looks like Michael and his brothers have arrived.” She looked over at the other Librarians with a sigh. “Well – so much for a peaceful night out.”

“Michael and his brothers?” Chloe repeated, slightly confused. “Are they…?”

“Angels” Stone confirmed with a worried look at the Guardian and Flynn. “Archangels to be precise. Two big guys in the back are Rafael and Uriel. Guy in front not wearing armor is Gabriel and the one beside him is Michael.” 

Ezekiel took a sip of his drink, “Sinners Paradise – appropriate for the venue” he thought to himself and raised an eyebrow. “How come everyone else is loaded for bear and Gabriel is unarmed?”

“Because Gabriel is the only sensible one remaining of that group” Zaphiel replied, sliding out of the shadows to stand beside Baird’s chair. “Rafael and Uriel are on edge because of whose house this is and Michael…well, he’s looking for a fight.”

Flynn sighed. “I would have thought that after the LAST time…”

Zaphiel snorted in amusement. “He doesn’t remember the LAST time, Master Librarian. Remember – he was thrown back to Vega BEFORE the events in your library. So to him – they never occurred.”

Chloe shot a look at Baird who shook her head. “Long story – not one you’re ready to hear yet” the Guardian whispered. She looked over at the older angel with a frown. “So, now what happens?”

“Other than I keep Samael from trying to restart the war with our brothers? We wait for the young ones to arrive and begin their official court. Then the REAL fun begins.” The smile on the angel’s face sent a shiver through Baird’s spine as the old angel slipped away as silently as he had appeared. 

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?” Stone muttered to his fellow Librarians. Cassandra, clutching her glass of seltzer, nodded in agreement.

Chloe’s hand froze on its way back to her drink. “Why are they staring at us?” she asked quietly.

Flynn sighed. “They aren’t staring at you – they're staring at us. And on that happy note I’d just like to say that this party isn’t turning out to be as much fun as I had hoped it would.”

Baird watched as the archangels picked their way carefully across the room towards them, Rafael and Uriel at the rear with Michael taking the lead. Maze, she noticed, took that moment to step away, not in the mood to deal with a group of well-armed and anxious archangels. “Well, fancy seeing you lot here” she called out.

“Yes – rather a strange place to reunite” Gabriel agreed, stopping in front of Baird’s chair. “We were invited to help a brother with an issue of the law. And you?”

Flynn glanced dubiously at Michael, who was standing with his back to the bar, watching the Fae and others mill around nosily. “Rowan invited us to a party. It’s not turning out quite the way we expected.”

“Speak for yourself, mate” Ezekiel crowed, waving cheekily at a pair of pretty sprites who were smiling at him. “This is EXACTLY how I thought this kind of party would be.”

Michael glanced over at the sprites then at the young thief. “You know that form is only a façade – their real image includes long, sharp teeth used to disembowel their victims.”

Gabriel sighed. “What was that term my son used to use on me – oh yes. Michael, you really are a buzz kill.”

Rafael turned away, fighting back the laughter bubbling up inside him. He recognized now where Gabriel’s good humor was coming from. Even a chance to see his child – even if the child didn’t acknowledge him – was enough to put God’s Messenger back into his snarky yet light-filled mood. 

Michael shrugged. “It’s the truth. Better he know that now then when they are gnawing on his bones.” He looked away but not before Baird saw the slight smile and look of relief that passed over his normally taciturn face. Gabriel in a good mood meant Michael was in a good mood. The guardian filed that snippet of information away for later.

Cassandra smiled up at Uriel, wondering why such a beautiful figure was so sad. “Have you met Lucifer’s friends?” she asked, motioning to Linda and Chloe.

Uriel looked down at the two women with a frown. “I didn’t know the Fallen had any friends.”

Chloe’s face tightened in annoyance. “Your brother might just surprise you.” She turned and held out a hand to Gabriel, ignoring his other brothers. “Det. Chloe Decker. This is Dr. Linda Martin.”

Gabriel looked down at her hand and, reaching out, gave it a tentative shake. “My pleasure. What type of physician are you, Dr. Martin?”

“I’m a therapist – Lucifer’s therapist to be precise.” Her words tumbled one after another in nervous energy. Her jaw dropped as Gabriel’s face lit up and he burst into laughter.

“Oh that’s just too rich” he choked, snatching up Baird’s drink and taking a swig. “Lucifer – with a therapist! How did Amenadiel manage to not spread THAT little tidbit of gossip all through the Silver City?”

“Khan thought it was pretty funny too” Ezekiel called out, trying to avoid the interested looks from the sprites he had been flirting with. Michael might be a buzz kill – but getting eaten by a pair of pretty magical beings wasn’t his idea of a good time.

Gabriel stopped laughing, looking at the young man with interest. “He did?” he whispered softly. “Well – at least that’s one trait Father allowed him to keep. My boy always did find amusement and beauty in even the smallest of things.”

Michael turned back, giving the young thief a hard look before focusing on his brother. “Gabriel…” he began, laying a hand on his fellow angel’s arm.

Gabriel waved him off. “I’m fine, Michael. But I could do with a drink – something more alcohol and less sugar.”

Stone waved to the bartender and order a bottle of Scotch and glasses. He poured himself and the archangel a shot and presented it saying “Try this. It’s pretty smooth. Puts me in a good mood pretty quick.”

Gabriel chuckled, then tossed the drink back. He smiled, then poured a shot for his brothers and then another for himself. “Well, young Librarian, I must say – your taste in alcohol is acceptable. Thank you for this.” He glanced around the club with a frown, clinking glasses with Michael as he did so. “But where are the young ones. And where, for the love of Father, did that bloody Throne who insisted we attend disappear to?”

In the Between

“Alright, little brother, you go first and announce us.” Arthur’s voice, deep and somber, floated out from under his hood and in to Jenkins ear. The three men were lined up in preparation for Master Khan to open the door from the great Empty into Lux. Arthur and Khan were dressed in dark brown pants and tunics – simple, unadorned hunting garb which matched the outfits used by the video game characters they were mimicking. Arthur’s long, hooded cloak swept down to his ankles, concealing most of his lean figure – as well as hiding his tall King’s Sword in its folds. Khan’s cloak was similar – brown to his brother’s black – and floated around him as he walked like wings. 

Arthur laid his gloved hands on Jenkin’s shoulders, making sure he lined the old soldier up with a spot in the rising fog. “Announce us the moment you step through. Then move away from the door as quickly as you can. Baby brother and I have an entrance to make and I’d hate to flambé you in the process of making it.”

Jenkins frowned at his friend. “What are you planning?” he whispered, wishing he had not allowed the young King to talk him out of carrying his Crusader’s sword into the party. “And by the way – may I again point out that you're sending me through unarmed to keep the peace yet you and your brother are going to walk in armed for war.”

“We’ve already had this discussion” Arthur sighed. “I am King – and my Fair Folk subjects would be unnerved to see me without Albion. That blade is as much a part of me as Excalibur was.”

“Bollocks” Jenkins snorted. “I’m almost certain your subjects have seen far more of you without that weapon than you’re admitting. Considering your propensity for walking out of ponds, streams and any sufficiently deep body of water stark naked…”

Arthur leaned his head against Jenkins back, laughing. “It was just that one time, Galeas! And I did apologize to the Abbess.” 

“More like half a dozen times” Jenkins groused. “And you only apologized to quiet Lancelot and Merlin. So – knowing what I know about you, my friend, what type of entrance are you REALLY planning?”

“Just wait and see” Khan laughed softly, twirling his staff in his hands as he waited. He used the end of the stick to inscribe a magical rune in front of the old knight and whispered a word of power towards it. A door, bathed in light, appeared.

“Just remember the words I told you to say” Arthur said with a chuckle, putting his hand on Jenkins lower back. “And then step quickly. We’ll be right behind you.” With that, he gave the man a gentle shove into the light.


	10. Jenkins enters the Party

In the club

The Librarians watched, silently as the raucous party took on a life of its own. Fair Folk, dwarves, old gods and two-natured creatures; Children of the Moon and human-form fire drakes all took to the dance floor to enjoy the one night they could move among the human population without fear. Baird sat back, amused by Flynn’s enraptured study of the various Fae who wandered by, most of which pointedly ignored the enthused Librarian and the silent Archangels. “Well Flynn, I have to say, this is probably the best Halloween party you’ve ever taken me to.”

“It’s the ONLY Halloween party I’ve taken you to” Flynn replied absently. “I don’t recognize most of these beings from the last Conclave the Library hosted.”

“You mean the one where Jones nearly gave away the farm to DuLac?” Baird snorted. “I suspect the “representatives” were only a small part of the magic realm."

"You would be right" Uriel said quietly. pulling one knee up to his chest as he watched the partygoers. . Uriel, the tallest of the group, had decided to sit on the floor with his back to the bar, unconcerned by the fact that his long legs were in everyone’s way. He watched the procession of magic beings somberly. "Most of the ancestors of the members of the Conclave once lived in the Fae lands. They were turned out by the Jinn when the Black Gates were closed during the first War in Heaven. They have become shadows of what their forefathers were - yet they are still more powerful than the humans they live with. Hence the creation of the Conclave with the Library as its mediator."

"I'm betting that if Arthur or Rowan had shown up that day those "representatives" would have run crying to mama. Both he and Ro are not likely to allow themselves to be walked all over by people with issues.” Stone poured himself another shot, swirling it around his glass as he spoke.

“Yeah – and can you imagine DuLac’s face when Arthur comes strolling in with that toothy smile on his face” Ezekiel said with a grin. “Still young, handsome and bigger in every way than his old buddy – and still not likely to put up with his shit.”

Chloe frowned. “Arthur?” she asked, quietly. 

“One of our young ones” Gabriel replied, leaning comfortably back on the bar with Rafael seated to his left and Michael perched on a bar stool to his right Michael's eyes swept the dance floor, constantly checking for danger while Rafael relaxed at his brother’s side. “He is King Phoenix, Lord of the Fae and the Eternal Firebird. Even if they did not before, the beings you saw as part of your conclave probably now owe allegiance to the royal house. Especially the dragons – at least if they know what’s good for them.”

“He doesn’t like dragons?” Cassandra asked, pushing away her now warm glass of seltzer. “I thought he did – he liked Khan and Khan is Master of the Dragon Temple.”

Gabriel shrugged tiredly. “There was a time, little Librarian, when I could have answered your questions but since our Heavenly Father has seen fit to…” his voice trailed off, ending the conversation.

“Hey guys – look!” Ezekiel exclaimed, pointing towards the elevator door. The entrance to the lift had taken on an unearthly glow as though a fire was consuming it. The beings who had moments before been happily dancing the night away now moved quickly away from the growing heated door, a low, concerned murmur filling the room. A sound which grew louder as a lone figure strolled out of the flames. 

“Jenkins!” Cassandra squealed in delight. “I knew he wouldn’t miss a chance to see his friends!” She jumped from her bar stool in excitement, only to be swept back by Flynn.

"Cassandra, wait" the Librarian commanded, eyes on the Caretaker. "Something is off about this."

Ezekiel eyed the tunic Jenkins was wearing with a frown. "Isn't that the same shirt we saw on the table before we arrived? The one with that funny design on it?"

"It's a tunic you nitwit and that's his family coat of arms" Stone hissed. "Remember? It was on his shield as well. Represents his family name and history."

"He's been in a battle" Michael murmured, standing beside his brothers as they lined up protectively in front of the human guests, Uriel rising from the ground to tower over his siblings. "I can still smell the blood on him, though he's tried to wash it away."

"Battle?" Chloe whispered, wishing desperately she had gone with her first instinct and NOT crashed this mad party. "Isn't he a little old...?"

"Yes, he's old" Flynn responded dryly. "But he's also Galahad - the incorruptible knight of the Round Table and seeker of the Holy Grail. And one the best, if not THE best, swordsmen from that era."

"Arthur must have talked him into going into a fight with him" Baird mused, watching the old knight wave the Fair Folk away from the door. "Jenkins never could say no to him. But what were they fighting?"

A few feet away, Constantine felt the rush of old magic roar from the doorway as the old man walked out. "What the bloody hell...?" he asked, stepping back and bumping into his angelic companion. Turning, he was startled to see fear in the angel's eyes as he watched the man in medieval garb stop and gather his thoughts. "What's going on? What aren't you tell me?"

"Something is coming" Manny whispered, eyes darting around for the nearest exit. "Something neither you nor I can control. Something..."

"Demonic?" Constantine said with a shrug. "Not my first rodeo."

"No you idiot!" Manny hissed. "Not from Hell - from home. MY home. God has sent something to this party. Something to confront us. Something to destroy us!"

"And why would God destroy his own angel?" The scruffy exorcist eyed his companion with suspicion. "You bloody stupid sod - What have you done?"

Across the room, Jenkins swept the rest of the odd assortment of magical beings out of the path of the door he had just exited. He glanced across and saw the Librarians and the Archangels at the bar - the angels clustered in front his mortal friends in case their prowess in battle would be needed. Bowing his head in recognition to Baird and Flynn he took center stage on the dance floor and spoke the words his friend had given him.

"Nunc audi verba Dei magni Regis. Et Court iam inceperat. Draco rex forti iam receperint, et ignis Domini. Et non receperint stupefactus haesit." His deep voice soared out over the now quiet club, reaching into every crevise, every corner, even out to the door and beyond. The Latin phrase seemed to bring the whole room to a stand-still, with even Lucifer standing still beside his office door, the elderly angel beside him.

"Hear now the words of the Great King. The Court has begun. Welcome now the mighty Dragon Lord and the King of Fire. Welcome and be awed." Stone translated quietly for Ezekiel and Cassandra. The Archangels exchanged puzzled looks as they watched to old retainer move quickly out from in front of the door. 

"The Great King?" Flynn mused, watching Jenkins step quickly aside and turn to face the door. "Now what does that..."

He got his answer as the elevator door exploded outward in a shower of metal, with living flames clawing their way out of the entrance and rising to form assorted symbols - a burning rose, a dragon and finally a phoenix rampent. From the depths of the flames came a deep throated roar as something moved to claim the floor for itself.


	11. The boys are both in the house - but where is the Queen?

Suddenly a figure darted from the flames, tumbling gracefully to a stop feet from the flaming doorway. Kahn, Abbot and Master of the Dragon Temple, stood tall and proud on the dance floor with his oak Bo staff gripped in his hand. He was dressed in clothing similar to Vlad's - a simple tunic and pants, knee high boots with blade handles visible sticking out of the top and two Kukri knives in his belt. His hair was longer than the last time the Librarians had seen him, damp and pushed back into a braid behind his ears. His beard and mustache had been neatly trimmed back, not hiding the beauty of his tanned face. But it was his eyes that riveted everyone. Eyes that were fire red and slit like a lizard's stared out from under dark lashes, scanning the room in front of him as he moved. He opened his arms wide, threw back his head and roared till the dust rattled from the rafters in greeting to the guests. Various Fae dressed in monk’s robes howled back in reply, slamming their fists into whatever solid object was nearby. Others pounded staffs on the floor - or melted quietly into the background behind their more exuberant brethren.

Lucifer watched the spectacle with equal parts amusement and concern. "Boy does know how to make an entrance" he quipped, sliding behind his brothers to stand beside Chloe. "Handsome devil, isn't he? I like to think he takes a little after me."

Gabriel went stiff but did not turn. "He's NOTHING like you, brother. NOTHING." The Archangel shifted his feet, squaring his shoulders as he watched what had once been his son move in graceful leaps around the floor, performing the Wushu butterfly kicks that he had always managed to make look easy and deadly at the same time. He interspersed his kicks and spins with staff work, passing his Bo staff from hand to hand in faster and faster arcs around him as he moved the party goers further back from the door.

"Anyone noticing that for all that fire, nothing is really being damaged?" Cassandra pointed out suddenly, squinting at the dance floor. "Literally nothing. It's like the fire isn't even there."

"Fae magic" Lucifer said with a shrug. "I suspect that while those flames would burn anything living to a crisp if needed they also wouldn't register on puny mortal instruments."

"Fae fire magic" Vlad agreed, appearing as quietly as he had disappeared. "More for effect than anything else. But that can and will change." He tipped his glass to Lucifer who was leaning on the bar, watching Khan's performance with a frown. "Hope you have insurance, old devil. Depending on how things go - you might need it."

Chloe looked around the room as Khan danced across the floor, eyes finally fixing on Lucifer. "Doesn't this place have fire alarms? Why aren't they ringing off the wall by now?"

"Actually" Zaphiel's wry voice called out from the other side of the bar. "I disabled them. There weren't needed and that ringing is just TOO annoying. Especially considering we were going to get quite the light show when the boys arrived." He clinked glasses with Vlad, who held up a bottle of scotch to his angelic companion. "Don't you agree, old friend?"

"Makes my head hurt" the old warlord said quietly, pouring himself another shot. "Not a good condition to be in - considering..." He considered his glass carefully then slid the bottle over to the angel “Did you take care of the alarm system as well?"

"Of course" Zaphiel replied, putting the bottle carefully behind the bar. "Can't risk mortal police descending on the place in the middle of our business, can we? Especially considering..." He shrugged nonchalantly and continued to watch the spectacle in front of him in silence.

Flynn and Baird looked at each other and then back at the elderly supernaturals. "That’s twice you’ve said that. Considering what?" Flynn asked, carefully.

"You'll see" Zaphiel replied mysteriously, a thin smile forming on his gaunt face.

Vlad shrugged at Flynn and Baird’s look. “He likes being mysterious. It can be annoying at times but tonight – he might just be worth listening to.”

On the dance floor, Khan stopped his martial display, satisfied that the Fae and their guests were far enough back. "Behold, ye creatures of magic!" he called out, taking a stand just to the side of the door. “Behold the Phoenix, Lord of Fire, and Master of the Realm!" 

Flames erupted again from the elevator’s entrance, covering the floor with higher and brighter tendrils of flames, which moved together to form the figure of a huge eagle with wings outstretched and engulfed in flames. From its depths came the scream of a bird of prey, echoing through the club and drowning out the roars of even the most enthusiastic party goer. The figure coalesced into the form of a man, dressed in a dark tunic like Khan's - but wearing a sword strapped to his back instead of blades on his belt. Arthur stood revealed to his subjects, honey blond hair dripping with tendrils of fire that seemed to be flowing from within him and a long slash running from the top of his eyebrow to his cheek marring the perfection of his square-jawed face. But it was the young king's eyes that held everyone spellbound, eyes that were the combination of Fae and Fire Spirit. Eyes sockets reflecting not the cool blue orbs his subjects were accustomed to but fire, with rivulets of flame flowing from the corners like liquid, molten tears. The Firebird King threw open his arms, tilted his head back and roared a greeting to all who had arrived. Many returned the greeting with enthusiasm - others simply went quiet, trembling at the sight of the Phoenix in its glory.

Chloe clutched at her glass for a moment. It was a moment like the first time she had seen Lucifer’s “devil face” – surreal, frightening yet not dangerous. At least not dangerous to her. Taking a deep breath, she glanced over at her new acquaintances to see their reactions. The Librarians seemed quietly stunned, all of them staring wide-eyed at the spectacle before them. They obviously had never seen this transformation before and were trying to process it in their own ways. Lucifer was staring at both young men with a frown, his own eyes reflecting the same fiery glow as his nephews. He wasn’t as shocked as the Librarians yet his fire eyes spoke of his unease. 

But it was the archangels that mostly interested her. The one who had introduced himself as Gabriel was staring not at the young king but at his dark-haired brother with a mixture of shock and pain. The tableau in front of him seemed to trouble the angel but Chloe couldn’t tell exactly why. The tall blond who had been introduced as Uriel had eyes only for the Phoenix, ignoring everything but that lean, muscled form as the man walked in, still covered in the embers of flames. She wondered, for a moment, if angels could suffer from crushes for their human companions. Uriel certainly seemed to be fascinated with the man in front of him, watching his every move closely. Rafael’s eyes were on Uriel, gauging his reaction to the young King’s entrance, prepared for whatever action was needed. And Michael…”What is he looking for?” she whispered to Baird, nodding at the somber angel in front of her.

“Probably Rowan” Baird replied, straining to see through the smoke. She could barely see the back of the club, much less the entrances. The crush of magical beings pushed to the edges of the dancefloor, many standing on tables or huddling in booths, also made it hard to see. “It’s not like Arthur to show up without his sister.” She motioned to Jenkins, who had managed to pick his way around the room during the brothers’ entrance and was now standing beside Flynn. “Jenkins! Where’s their sister?”

Jenkins shrugged, eyes glued to the two young men in the center of the dance floor. “Arthur said she would catch a ride with their godfather and meet us here.”

Lucifer stared at the old man with a frown. “Godfather? They don’t have a godfather.”

Vlad and Zaphiel shared a knowing smile. “Things have changed, old devil” Vlad murmured. “Things have changed.”

A set of ornate thrones suddenly appeared behind Arthur, hand-carved and inlaid with pearl and silver. The Firebird glanced back at the seats with a smile. “Almost ready to begin” he growled, backing up to the middle throne while Khan took his stance at his brother’s right hand. “Just one thing missing. WHERE IS MY QUEEN?”

Silence fell over the club. Chloe, Lucifer and the Librarians exchanged worried glances as the magical beings gathered around them whispered and fidgeted in place. It was then that the sound floated over the heads of the club’s occupants. Not a roar – or at least not one from a living being. A mechanical growling that grew louder and louder. Till the doors burst open and the source of the sound made its entrance.


	12. Rowan arrives - and the shit hits the fan

The doors at the front of the club blew open and a Harley Davidson Street 750 motorcycle roared onto the dance floor. The driver, wearing a helmet decorated with angel wings, plowed through any Fae not fast enough (or not bright enough) to get out of his way. Whoever was controlling the bike was sending it flying down the steps and onto the dance floor, manhandling it with equal parts control and strength. His passenger, a large plumed hat obscuring her face, sat astride behind the driver clinging to his shirt. The motorcycle skid to a stop in front of Arthur, allowing the passenger to slide off as the bike (and its rider) moved to an open spot to park. Reaching up, she pulled off the plumed hat and tossed it into the crowd.

“It’s Rowan!” Cassandra exclaimed, all but clapping in glee. “Wow! She looks really amazing!”

“Doesn’t she though?” Vlad replied, a proud tone to his voice. “My little girl…”

Rowan was dressed in a similar style to Khan – black tunic top (not brown), pants and knee high boots – with Kukri blades on her belt. Strapped to her back was her Queen’s sword which she slid off and tossed onto the third throne. She glanced around the room, her eyes had changed from warm hazel to the silver color of Moon light over the high desert, reflecting her control of natural magic. Rowan looked up at her elder brother with a secretive smile and curtsied. “My King” she purred, holding out her hands.

Arthur smiled as well. “My Queen” he growled, interlocking their fingers and pulling her up to kiss her. They both then looked over at Khan with the same knowing smiles.

“My Master of Dragons” Rowan called out, reaching for one hand while Arthur took the other.

Khan bowed. “My Lady of the Moon” he replied, kissing her in the same manner as her elder brother. 

Zaphiel nodded. “Good. The Royal House of the Fae is united. Time for their court to begin.” 

“Wait – whose was driving that beast of a bike?” Stone asked, pointing at the still figure standing by his vehicle. 

“Oh – him” Vlad said with a chuckle. “That’s their godfather.”

The Rider pulled off his dark helmet, tossing it into the crowd, and turned to the Archangels with a grim smile. “Hello, brothers. Miss me?”

“Seraphiel” Uriel whispered in shock. All the brothers automatically glanced at their brother Michael as he took in the form of the elder Seraph, his former student, standing in biker garb in front of the Royal Court.

‘We thought you dead” Michael commented coldly. “Dragged off by Azazel’s minions.”

“While trying to protect you as I recall” Seraphiel replied dryly. “And yet, when the battle was won – not a one of you came looking for me. Pity you didn’t get what you wanted in that respect but then again – I am hard to kill.”

“We thought…” Rafael began, shooting a guilty glance at his brothers.

“I can just imagine what you thought” Seraphiel said coldly. 

"Godfather?" Cassandra asked Stone in confusion. "I thought you said she called him her grandfather."

"Grandfather, Godfather - same difference" Vlad replied dryly. “Doesn’t matter what term you use. The Seraph is family now – he protects my children and trains them to protect others as the All-Father has commanded. If these sods can’t be bothered to claim him as brother than I will.” 

Cassandra looked away from the old man’s now blood-shot, red eyes with a shudder. “Okay – he’s family. But…”

“Móraí” Rowan’s voice called out from her throne. The Triad had retreated to their seats, watching the interaction of angels with interest. “We are ready to begin.”

“Ay – I know girl. I’m coming” the Seraph called back, his Irish accented voice deepening as he spoke. He turned his back on his angelic brethren and strolled over the Rowan’s chair, laying a hand on her shoulder as he took his place beside her.

Vlad and Zaphiel also chose that moment to move, with Vlad taking up a spot directly behind Arthur and Zaphiel standing to one side of Khan. “Court is in session” the elder Throne called out. “It will be a brief one.”

“Short, quick and to the point” Khan responded, slouching in his chair. “Then – we party!”

Arthur laughed. “That we do, baby brother. That we do.”

Rowan sighed, looking up at her Seraphim guard. “I have the feeling we’re going to be pouring them into their beds tonight.”

Seraphiel grinned. “Probably so girl. Probably so.”

Rowan cocked one eyebrow up at him. “Why do you always call me "girl"? You do know I have a name – right? ”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “I know you’ve had many names. Just haven’t decided which one I like best.”

Rowan rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Men!" she grumbled, pretending to be annoyed. She reached across the arm of her throne and took her elder brother’s hand in hers, twining their fingers together in preparation for the start of their court.

“Not my problem you can’t settle on a name” Seraphiel responded peacefully, shooting a smug look at the old warlord behind his son – who swallowed the laugh that had bubbled up at the conversation.

Arthur glanced over at his sister and her guard with a smile. “Enough – the two of you. Let us get started.” He bowed his head respectfully at Zaphiel. “Eldest Throne – judge of the Angelic Choir – we cede the time of this court to you. You have the results of a Tribunal to relate and a Fallen brother to deal with. The floor is yours.”

“Bloody hell!” Lucifer growled. “He’s going to jump into that NOW! In front of all these supernaturals! They are mental – the lot of them!”

At the back of the club, Constantine watched the spectacle of the entrance of the Royal House with interest mixed with confusion. “Not demons” he said softly, looking into the dark corner where his angelic companion was vainly trying to hide. “Higher angel – and a judge at that. What did you do – steal the family silver?”

Manny growled at the shabby exorcist. “Stop talking. You’re bringing attention to us.”

“Why don’t you just blink out? Not as though you haven’t done that to me before – just winked out and left me holding the bag.” Constantine looked back at the thrones, not terribly surprised to see that they and their angel companions were looking right at him. 

“I CAN”T!” Manny hissed in desperation. “The place is warded to keep me in. They must have been activated when King Phoenix arrived. We’ll have to fight our way out.”

“You’re bloody joking, right? You expect me to fight to get you out of a club inhabited by the Devil, a bunch of pissed off angels and more other worldly beings than should ever be in one place at one time? Not happening!” Constantine eyed the group on the floor with interest. “But maybe, just maybe, I can talk our way out of this.”

“You’re a con artist, John Constantine, but not even you have the talent to talk your way out of the court of the King. Especially if the Queen of Fae is on her throne.” Manny’s wings flickered with tension. “It is said she can smell a liar at a hundred feet. You might think you’re good – but you’re not THAT good.”

“Let’s just see about that” Constantine replied, calmly putting his drink on the nearest table and swaggering out to stand before the thrones. “So – guess we all know why you invited me to this affair, don’t we luv?”

Rowan looked at the rumpled figure in front of her with amusement. “I’m going to assume you don’t own an iron or you would have at least made SOME attempt to look presentable before you came to my party.”

“Don’t own one” Constantine bantered, wondering how close he could get to the woman before her guard snapped his neck. He had met her and her brother years ago while tracking some demonic force in New Orleans and had struck up an unusual friendship with her. Rowan had NOT been impressed by him, not by his knowledge of the demonic world nor of his power over magic which Constantine never seemed to gain control over. She had picked and prodded at him the entire time in the Crescent City, pushing him to finally do what needed to be done not for gain but because it had to be done. 

“Well, at least I know what to get you for Christmas” Rowan replied with a shrug. “So tell me, John, when were you going to contact me about the events you believe were leading to the Rising Dark?”

Constantine winced. “Well – about that.”

Arthur held out a hand to stop the conversation. “We really don’t care about your excuses. You knew this was more than you could handle yet you still didn’t think to contact Rowan or myself. Self-confidence is a good thing, John, but your arrogance has caused more problems with this than you are worth.”

Constantine eyed the young King with a frown. “So how did you find out?”

“Small discussion with Papa Midnight” a lilting voice called out. Madame Marie Laveau sauntered out of the back of the club, bowing respectfully to the thrones before stopping beside Zaphiel. “That fool of a voodoo priest and drug runner you ran up against. He told us of a conversation your angel had with him – right after he freed him from the police who were to take him away. A talk in which this “angelic” creature admitted that the Brujeria were being led by an angel of God – specifically the one who follow and advices you. It was he who began the events that would eventually lead to the release of the Darkness. And he had plans to use you to help that occur.”

“Not that it’s going to happen now” Khan replied calmly, playing with one of his daggers. “We kind of dropped a pyramid on their sorry asses.”

“And opened a crack in the Earth so their remains could be swallowed up” Arthur continued, rubbing a finger across the healing scar on his face.

“And let’s not forget snuffing the ley line that the temple stood over so it couldn’t be used again” Rowan called out gaily, patting her guardian’s hand on her shoulder. 

Arthur motioned to the TV screen that had been moved to the floor. “Anyone have the remote?” He grinned as Vlad reached in his jacket and handed the metal controller to his son. “Okay – let’s see what we can see”. 

The screen flickered until it settled on a Special Report being broadcast about the horrible destruction caused by the magnitude 8.5 earthquake in the Mexican jungles. The reporter droned on and on about landslides, flooding and whispers of ancient ruins being destroyed by the force of the quake and the subsequent fires that resulted from damaged drug labs caught in the disaster. Constantine watched blankly, then looked back at his angelic associate – who took that moment to make a run for the door.


	13. Pronouncing sentance - and punishment meted out

Chloe moved to stop the escapee only to find herself facing Lucifer instead. “Shouldn’t we stop him?” she whispered in frustration, watching the running figure dart out the door.

“I know that bloody sod of a Throne” Lucifer grumbled. “He probably has half the Heavenly army out there waiting for that stupid winged rat to make a break for it.”

"Did you know he was going to do this? Bring another angel up on charges and pass sentence on him all in one fell swoop?" Chloe stared unblinking at her "partner", waiting for an answer. 

Lucifer shrugged. "He might have mentioned that was mostly why they wanted to arrange a party for tonight. How else were they going to get that bloody lower angel in here unless they invited his human pet to come and enjoy the evening with us?"

“Lower angel?” Linda asked, signaling the bartender for another round. 

“Generic angelic sorts” Lucifer explained with a shrug. “Not Archangel, not Seraphim, not Throne or Power – just a runt of an angel who thinks he can get away with murder.”

“Like you did?” Rafael called back, eyes still on the Royal Court.

“That was another issue entirely” Lucifer protested. “I made a good point to our Father about his pets and he didn’t want to hear it so he chucked me out the door.”

“You and how many others of our brothers and sisters?” Rafael prodded grimly. “How many of Heaven’s children followed you into the pit?”

“Not my problem” Lucifer snarled. “They chose to take a stand with me. I didn’t ask them to.”

“Oh bloody hell you didn’t” Rafael snarled. “You went around complaining about Father’s plans for his new creations, stirring up dissent and dissatisfaction until you had raised yourself an army to take on Michael.”

“Will the two of you please be QUIET?” Gabriel snapped, glaring back at the two bickering siblings. “I can’t hear what’s going on over your nonsense.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to protest, only to have Chloe grab him by the arm. “Lucifer, shut up. I want to hear the rest of this as well.”

“You’re handling this much better than I would have thought” Maze called out from her perch beside Linda. “Frankly, Decker, I wasn’t sure you had to stones to deal with all of this.”

Chloe shrugged. “My belief or disbelief in all of this isn’t going to make it go away. So I guess I’d better just get use to coping with it for Trixie’s sake – and my own.”

Rafael turned back to the Royal Court, a slight smile on his face. Lucifer could be a horror, a traitor to his own kind but this human saw him as they had once done. The annoying brother that they had all once loved. “Michael – the woman is right. Shouldn’t we…?”

Michael shook his head. “King Phoenix knew that Constantine and his companion were here – he and Zaphiel will have contingency plans for any attempt to escape. All we need do is wait.”

“Won’t have to wait long” Gabriel drawled, pointing back at the entrance to the club. A fight was going on just outside the threshold and from the sounds of it someone was being ripped apart. Suddenly, Manny, wings ripped and shredded, came flying back into the club, followed by what at first appeared to be a set of huge, lizard-like claws.

“Veils, please” Arthur called out. “We have mortals in the house.”

The claw hesitated for an instant then retreated, to be replaced by a tall, dark-haired handsome young man with blood splashed over his clothing. “My apologies, my king” the man called out, bowing to the thrones. “I forgot for a moment.”

Jenkins, standing with the Librarians, motioned towards the new figure. “Drogo – Arthur’s man-at-arms and constant companion. He also, as it happen, is a rather large black dragon.”

Flynn’s head turned towards the younger man, watching as he approached the throne. “Eastern or European? Dragon, I mean.”

Jenkins sighed. “The dragons of the Fae land are of neither of those varieties, at least as far as I can tell. You should probably ask Khan about them – if you will remember he and his monks have a breeding ground for such beings near their temple.”

Uriel glanced back at Jenkins with a frown. “Damien is allowing dragons to be bred at the temple?”

“Not Damien” Michael corrected. “You know that, little brother. The man on that throne is Arthur – not your companion Damien. That name has been struck from the book of life along with his siblings.” The archangel shot a quick look at his twin, seeing the look of pain in Gabriel’s eyes. “I’m sorry brother – I should have…”

“Thought before you spoke? Why? What you said was the truth. The young man on that throne is not my Andre but the Khan, Master of the Temple. I knew that when I agreed to come to this party.” He reached out and squeezed his twin’s arm. “Don’t worry so about me, Michael. I am content to know my child exists in some form or other – even if he doesn’t know or acknowledge me.”

“Hey guys” Ezekiel called out, waving to the dance floor. “Looks like they are waiting for you.” 

Michael looked up to see the elder Throne watching the archangels impatiently. “Come, it is time for our part in this madness” he said quietly, stepping forward.

Gabriel looked back at the Librarians and shrugged. “Hopefully this won’t take too long – or be too bloody.” He fell in behind his brother with Rafael and Uriel taking up the rear.

“What are they going to do?” Chloe asked, looking from Lucifer to her new friends.

Flynn shrugged. “Well – if this angel has committed some offense against Heaven…”

“Dear old Dad will have his wings as punishment” Lucifer said bitterly. “I’m still surprised he didn’t do that to me when he chucked me out the door.”

“Maybe he hoped you’d redeem yourself” Linda mused, pouring herself and Maze a drink. The good doctor was, by this time, feeling no pain after consuming numerous shots of Scotch. “And maybe your seeing your brothers is a start to you hopefully making things right with Heaven.”

“Doubtful” Lucifer scoffed. “The only reason we aren’t at each other’s throats right now is the Triad. Neither Michael nor Gabriel are willing to lose what LITTLE contact they might be allowed with their former students just for the satisfaction of stuffing me in a sack and tossing me back into Hell.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes in a fairly decent imitation of Rowan’s expression. “You really do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

“Of course I do” Lucifer replied with a smile. “Just look at me – there is a lot to appreciate here.”

Chloe, the Librarians, Linda and Maze all blinked at the Devil in disbelief then turned their attentions back to the dance floor.

Manny, his wings almost bare of feathers, painfully pulled himself to his knees. “You can’t judge me” he hissed at Arthur. “You maybe King Phoenix but I am an angel. I answer only to God!”

“And God has a message for you, brother” Zaphiel replied, motioning to the Archangels to take their place. “You have chosen to take up arms against Father’s creations – without his consent or approval. He chose to allow you to go as far as you did as a test. To see if your loyalty was to Heaven or to yourself. Now we know. It has been left to me, and the King of Fae, to determine your fate. Because you see, brother, you’re wrong when you say the Firebird cannot judge you. Since you tried to end the lives of those our Father has given them to protect, King Phoenix and his consorts are commanded to be your judges – and executioners if that is their will.” The angel nodded towards the throne. “We have discussed this – what is your will, young King?”

“Now wait just a bloody minute!” Constantine sputtered. “Doesn’t he get to say something in his defense?”

“Of course” Rowan purred, leaning back in her chair. “I’m in the mood to hear what possible excuse he can come up with for wanting to return the Darkness to cover the lands of man. I’m sure it will be a very entertaining story.” 

Gabriel shuddered, still feeling the scars from his time carrying the Darkness in his own soul. He remembered being in Vega when he had opened Amphora and had it cast its spell, shrouding each of the Vega's citizens in visions driving them to madness and suicide. “There can be no excuse viable enough to explain using that weapon against mankind. I have seen what it does to Father’s children – and what it did to me as its host. Anything you say will be as self-serving as my excuses were.”

“And yet, you weren’t cast down” Manny hissed in anger. “You weren’t punished for releasing the Darkness onto the souls of men. Yet you would judge me for doing the same!”

“Yeah – let me throw in some points on that subject” Khan drawled, sitting up in his chair. “One – from what I heard from the dumb-ass Dyad who was responsible, Gabriel was essentially doused with the Darkness before he broke free and took the Amphora to use as a weapon. So – essentially he was under the influence. Point Two – he regretted his actions after the Darkness was burned out of him. Point three – you’re not under influence. You just WANT to eradicate humankind. That makes you the greater threat.”

“One other point” Arthur added, his voice gravely. “Gabriel and the others who dealt with Vega have been punished for their mistakes and for their failings. Gabriel has lost his son. From what Seraphiel has told us – The Archangel cared for his child. Grief over that loss ranks for me as punishment enough.” He looked down at the angel at his feet, fire still spilling from his eyes. “You, on the other hand, haven’t even begun to know pain for your actions. That, however, I think we can change.” 

Rowan motioned to the archangels to approach. “The throne of Fae has decided. He is to lose his wings, his immortality, and all that makes him angelic. Let him live among the very creatures he sought to destroy. If he succeeds in restoring his grace – he can join the souls who are taken up to Heaven when they die. If he does not – then there is a cage waiting for him in Hell. Agreed, brothers?”

Both Arthur and Khan snarled their agreement, pounding on their thrones for emphasis. “So says the Throne of Fae” Arthur proclaimed, turning his eyes to Zaphiel. “Now, elder Throne, it is time for your brothers to do what they have been invited here to do.”

Zaphiel nodded and moved out of the way as Michael and his brothers moved to swarm the injured man. Rafael and Uriel grabbed the tips of what was left of his burnt wings and pulled them outstretched, while Michael cut them away from the shivering form and tossing them to one side. Gabriel, staring down at what had once been a sibling, proclaimed his sentence and pulled his angelic grace from his chest. The glowing orb, more black than gold, turned to dust as soon as it was released. 

“It is done” Gabriel said quietly, stepping back.

“And what do you expect us to do with him now?” Lucifer’s sarcasm laced voice called out from the bar. “Tossing him into the gutter like you did me?”

Rowan sighed. “Lucifer - with all due respect - shut up. It's not about you." She turned her silver eyes back to Constantine's rumpled figure. "John, whatever anger you have at us for this, you are the only person left who can deal with him in his new form. He is human now – not the angelic ride-along you’ve been dealing with. But at some point – he was your friend. Can we put him in your care?”

Constantine stared down at what had once been a child of God with a frown. “If I refuse?”

“Then we have him taken to a hospital where he will most likely end up in a psych unit” Arthur replied, somberly. “They will assume he’s some homeless drunk with mental issues who is having delusions about being an angel. It might be a better end for him than to go with you. And it maybe a decision you would have to make about him eventually. Angels don’t take well to being forced into a mortal life. But at least with you he’ll have someone who knows his story.”

“We can arrange transport back to your home” Khan commented, tucking the dagger he had been playing with into his belt. “That way you wouldn’t have to deal with him on a plane or bus. Look dude, I know you’re pissed. Frankly so am I. Because of what that ass was trying to raise up, a whole lot of innocent people got hurt. All because he was feeling like God didn’t love him as much as he loved his new little pets.”

Chloe and Linda stared at Lucifer who stared back blankly. “What?”

“Never mind” Chloe sighed, patting his arm.

Constantine hung his head, trying desperately to find a way out of this that didn’t include him becoming a nurse to a mangled ex-angel – and finding none. “Fine. I’ll take him home with me.” He heaved the man on his feet, wrapping an arm around Manny to keep him from toppling over.

“And John” Rowan said quietly. “Next time you see signs of the Apocalypse – share. Like it or not – we’re all on the same side.”

“Speak for yourself” Lucifer muttered. 

“Another word out of you Samael and I will spike your booze with the most potent anti-psychotic I can find.” Rowan called out with a smile.

“Promises, promises” Lucifer replied.

Arthur sighed then reaching out formed the sigils to open a door back to Constantine’s home. A misty form, shaped like an open door, appeared before them. “Just step through there and you’re back” he said. 

Constantine eyed the door somberly, then looked back at Rowan. “If you ever got bored with this lot, luv, you know where to find me.” With that cheeky remark, he stopped through the door and disappeared.

“As IF” Rowan waved the smell of burned feathers away with her hand. “I’d have to be desperate.” She inscribed a mystic symbol in the air and the burnt wings melted to dust and blew off the dance floor, taking their noxious scent with them.

“And he’d have to get past us first” Arthur remarked, pointing back at his father, his brother and Rowan’s guardian. “I’m betting he wouldn’t get too far.” He glanced around the room. “So – unless someone else has any business before this Court…” He waited for a few moments then smiled. “Court is adjourned.”

“One thing, King Phoenix” Michael’s voice cut through the babble of voices as the guests started to disperse towards where the food was set up. “You have taken this Seraph into your house as a guard to your sister. How is it he found you when you have essentially locked your doors to our presence in your realm?”

Arthur leaned back in his chair with a frown. “As I recall my message, given to you by my father, was that the Black Gates were closed and barred to you and your brethren. None of you would be allowed entrance into the Fae lands, not now and not for the foreseeable future. I never said anything about our not taking someone in ourselves.” He looked up at the TV screen thoughtfully. “What do you say, family? Shall we show these angels what exactly happened those last hours before we left Vega?”

Rowan and Khan both nodded agreement. “Seems only fair” Khan said quietly. “What do you think, Irish?”

Seraphiel shook his head ruefully. “I think I should never have let you start calling me Irish” he rumbled. Looking down at the young Queen he sighed. “The memories of that day stay with me just as the memories of the First War in Heaven. But the outcome was better – at least for me. Show them, young King. And then let’s spend the rest of the night in peace.”

Arthur nodded, laying one gloved fist to his heart in recognition of his new “godfather”. He looked up at the screen and waved his hand. “Show us Vega. Show us the last moments before we left that reality. Show us how our godfather came to be in our home.”


	14. A peek into the past

Seeing the past

The newscaster on the TV screen disappeared, replaced by images of rolling fog. As the Archangels, the Librarians, and Lucifer and his friends watched, the past was revealed.

Arthur looked out across the desert wasteland, mentally cataloging the number of demon spawn and other hell beasts whose bodies now littered the scorched ground. The Archangels had faced quite the army when they went after the Fallen Azazel – and had left almost none of them alive to tell the tale. He glanced over at his towering foster brother Khan. “Anything you find alive – kill it. We’ll blast the ground with dragon fire and phoenix flame after we’ve made our sweep.”

Khan nodded in agreement. “No point in letting some of these nasty little buggers survive to infest this world – it’s got enough problems without dealing with refugees from Hell.”

“Agreed.” Rowan’s voice was tired and hoarse – a product of screaming commands at her dark Fae warriors during the destruction of the town of Mallory. “This place is already teetering on the verge of extinction. No point in giving it a push.”

Arthur nodded. “Everyone know what we’re looking for?”

“Looking for a set of big, steel gray wings and a bad attitude?” Khan replied with a grin.

“Hopefully” Rowan agreed. “And hopefully he’s still alive enough to have an attitude about our coming after him.” She turned worried eyes out on to the ruined landscape, calculating the best ways to cover the most ground.

“He will be” Arthur said reassuringly. “Considering we didn’t give him time to give us a load of crap about what Metatron and Merlin had done to re-boot the All-Father’s plans for us I wouldn’t put it past him to be sitting out there waiting to see if we would be suicidal enough to come looking for him instead of following orders and heading home the minute our targets were dealt with.”

Rowan snorted. “That wouldn’t surprise me at all.” She looked at her brothers wearily. “Listen guys – thanks for doing this for me. I know that the angel out there isn’t the same as the avatar who saved us when we were being overwhelmed by memories of our previous lives. But in a way he sort of is. And I have a horrible feeling that something has happened to him out there.”

Arthur laid a gentle hand on his sister’s cheek. “It’s alright Sissy. He saved us, all of us, from the risk of becoming the broken people we were. I owe him for that. And I owe him for his love for you.”

“Yeah” Khan rumbled, leaning on his brother’s back. “Same here.”

Rowan smiled in relief. “So – I go center line, Khan goes left and you go right?”

“Sounds like a plan” Khan hefted his staff carefully, poking the ground ahead of him. “How far do we go before we turn around?”

Arthur pointed to a distant smoke cloud. “I’m betting that’s where Michael sent the Fallen back to Hell. Look like the land is still smoking so going to assume that’s where the crater is from Azazel’s final descent. Let’s go as far as that then turn around.” He shifted positions with his sister and started forward, carefully watching the burnt ground for any sign of infernal life. Behind him his siblings did the same, each watching the ground carefully, prepared to strike if anything moved.  
The search was slow and tedious, each piece of ground carefully examined for anything that might not belong to this reality. A few of the Hell Spawn had still had some life to them, life which the Triad quickly and ruthlessly took from them before they could skitter out of reach. Khan used a pair of Kukri knives he had attached to his belt to help eliminate anything that moved in front of him. Arthur and Rowan used their tall, Crusader swords to prod anything larger than a stone in their path. It was painstaking work, poking every lump that they stumbled upon, running a blade through bodies they found to be sure they weren’t likely to resurrect at the worst possible moment. Both Khan and Rowan had wrapped scarves around their faces when the scent of burning flesh had become too intense. Arthur had pulled his shirt up to cover his nose, reasoning that the scent of his own sweat would not be as nauseating to him as the smells he was experiencing from these dead creatures. 

Suddenly, Rowan stopped in her tracks, her hazel eyes fixed on a rock structure a few hundred yards away. It was the only such mound of stones, the remnants of some primitive structure that was still standing on the battlefield. It caught her eye as most of the small mounds of stones that had existed in this place had been pulverized by the force of angelic wings and Emperium steel swords, leaving fragments and dust mixed with blood in their wake. “Over there” she whispered, pointing to the anomaly. “Do you see it? I think…”

“Wings” Khan grunted, trotting ahead of his foster sister to get a better look. 

Arthur closed on Rowan, grabbing her by the arm. “Remember, sissy, we don’t know what his condition is. You must be prepared…”

Rowan looked up into her brother’s glacial blue eyes with a wan smile. “I’ve been on battlefields before, dearest. I know what to expect.” She patted him absently on the arm, trotting after their companion with Arthur close behind.

At the rock mound Khan warily circled the numerous dead or dying horrors out of his worst nightmares, carefully picking his way to the form in the center – an older man in leather and metal armor, a broken sword in his hand and massive gray wings open and fluttering behind him. The Angelic warrior’s eyes were closed, blood flowing from a wound on his scalp. The young priest carefully scrutinized his potential patient at a distance first, bothered that he couldn’t tell if the angel was even still breathing. “Guess I have no choice” he muttered, quietly walking up and kneeling beside the prone figure. Reaching out, he gently removed the broken blade from the man’s hand – and instantly found his arm in a vise like grip with a bloody dagger at his face. 

“Best you buy me dinner before you touch me again, little boy” the angel’s voice was as raspy as Rowan’s was and his bright blue eyes were staring with equal parts amusement and annoyance at the young priest. Khan grinned unrepentantly back.

“Sorry old man – you’re not my type.” 

Seraphiel sighed and released the young priest, patting him on the arm as he did so. “Smart ass” he muttered, allowing his tortured muscles to relax.

“Seraphiel!” Rowan whispered, sinking to her knees at his side. “We thought…”

“I can imagine what you thought, little girl” the old Seraphim growled, turning to look at what had once been his charge. “But I’m too mean to kill – or at least that’s what my brothers say.” He looked over the Triad, reassuring himself that they, at least, were unhurt. “What the bloody hell are you three doing here? Why aren’t you on your way home?”

“I was right – knew he’d ream us out for coming out here to help him” Arthur replied, standing over the group with a small smile. “Even in my sister’s dreams you came off as a real…”

“Enough” Rowan shushed her brother, laying one hand gently on the injured Seraphim. “We need to get him back to the Realm where our healers can do their work.”

Seraphiel frowned, looking from Rowan to her two brothers. “My brothers are not with you?”

Arthur shrugged. “Who the hell knows what's going on in their fluffy heads? Probably thought you were dead. At any rate – they’re probably busy helping Alex set things right in Vega. By the time they get around to feeling guilty about not looking for your body – we can be comfortable around my father’s hearth.”

“And by that time – Father will have delivered our message” Rowan said, gently wiping blood from the Seraph’s eyes.

“What message?” Seraphiel asked, warily.

“Oh – nothing big. Just we’re slamming the Gates shut and they are no longer allowed into our Realm – at least not for now.”

“And you think Father will allow that?” Seraphiel asked, skeptically. He tried, vainly, to sit up without assistance but his tortured muscles simply wouldn’t allow it. The Seraph leaned back with a groan, disturbed at his weakness.

“Let’s just say I have it on great authority that the All-Father is willing to allow me some latitude in this matter. And it’s not like I said I was closing our realm to ALL of the angelic community – just to their particular feathery asses.” Arthur looked around with a frown. “I cannot believe they just left you out here to die?”

“I suspect they saw me be overwhelmed and thought the worst had happened.” Seraphiel’s voice was growing weaker by the second. “And Michael had other priorities on his mind when he sent Azazel back to Hell.”

“In other words, he couldn’t be bothered to make sure you were dead because he had to run back to Vega to check up on his “Chosen” one” Khan’s voice had turned gravely with distaste. He gently hauled the angel up on his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist, ignoring the Seraphim’s sputtering protests. “Dude, I’ve been a medtech in a lot of wars. You aren’t walking off this field without help so just stop protesting and let me do my job.”

“Yes, let Khan do what he does best” Rowan replied, opening a door into the Fae realm. “You’ll be no good to me as a guardian if you bleed out in this god-blasted land.”

Seraphiel managed a smile despite the pain. “So – you’re accepting me back as your guardian, are you?”

“If she doesn’t I will” Arthur replied, moving to support him on the other side. “I’m not too proud to admit I can learn from someone who held their own against the hosts of Hell.”

Seraphiel chuckle turned into a painful cough. “Then best you get me out of here boy before I choke on my own blood. But bear in mind – you might regret taking me on as your teacher.”

“We’ll see” Arthur replied with a smile. The group moved slowly, carefully through the glowing door with Rowan closing it behind them ending their stay in a world that should never have lived.


	15. How to begin again

In Lux

"I'd forgotten you broke my sword" Rowan teased. 

"And repaired it" Seraphiel protested, sitting on the arm of the Queen's throne. "Still don't like you wielding that demon-inspired hunk of metal."

"She and I are a good match" Rowan laughed. "We both can be real bitches when we need to be."

"I'm not touching that comment with a ten foot pole" the Seraph rumbled. 

"Wise man" Arthur agreed, a grin on his face. The King turned to look at the group of Archangels in front of him, eyes roaming from one face to another. "So...anyone want to take a stab at explaining why you left a brother on the field of combat without making sure of his condition."

"Yeah - I can guess what their excuse was" Khan growled. "Or at least what Michael's excuse would be. What's one foot soldier more or less in the grand scheme of things? The IMPORTANT one was that kid back in Vega - Michael's Chosen One - who was suppose to be the savior of that world. And I'm betting somewhere in that devious mind of yours Michael you figured if Irish was gone then the All-Father would have to re-connect you with our sister's former identity. "

"Yes" Zaphiel's quiet voice took center stage. "It was well known to the Archangels and to most of the Heavenly Choir Michael's former student was favored by the Almighty. I can see where he might have reasoned that God would reinstate her bond with her former teacher rather than risk her being without a guard - especially considering she was NOT on speaking terms with her elder brother."

"Your words - both of you - are false" Michael replied through gritted teeth. "If I had known the Seraph was still alive..."

"You would have what?" Rowan asked, calmly. She leaned forward in her throne, a pensive look on her pretty face. "Gone after him yourself - thereby leaving Alex to wrap up protection of Vega on his own. Or sent one of your brothers to find him - putting them in harms way to protect someone you really didn't think much about when there wasn't a firefight going on? Whether you consciously meant to leave Seraphiel to die or not the outcome was the same. He would have bled out and hopefully been returned to your Father's throne or been dragged off into some dark corner of Hell where no one could reach him. Were it not for the fact that the ONE thing God retained in me from my previous realty was my connection to my mentor - any of these things MIGHT have happened." She shrugged. "Not that it matters now. All in our world has been righted - and I for one am tired of talking about it."

Khan grinned, his red eyes changing back to their normal dark brown. "So - like I said. Let's party!"

Arthur threw back his head and laughed, his own flame-filled eyes changing as well, returning to their normal brilliant blue. "First rounds on me, baby brother!"

Zaphiel sighed. "I just saw Vlad wander off with that witch friend of yours, young queen. He had a rather large bottle of Rum in his hand - and while most of his kind can't really be affected by alcohol,..."

"Father always has to be different" Rowan sighed. 

The older Throne nodded. "I have a feeling it won't be just the younger boys we'll be pouring into their beds tonight."

Rowan grinned. "He's all yours, uncle. Seraphiel and I will have our hands full with those two juvenile delinquents." She waved a hand in the direction of her brothers on their thrones, breaking open a new bottle of rum for the two of them. 

Both the older angels shook their heads. "Well - it is a party, after all" Zaphiel replied. "I suppose we can let them let loose for one night. How bad can it be?"

Jenkins, who along with the Librarians, and Lucifer, had walked up after witnessing the battle scenes, groaned at the angel's words. "If Arthur is as bad now as he was when I knew him - drunk on his ass is not a good state for him. It usually took Lancelot, Bors, Merlin and myself to head him off and get him into his bed before he destroyed something or hurt himself trying to win some fool bet."

"Sounds like my brother" Rowan replied. "And from what his monks have told me - Khan's just as bad. He has a tendency to get naked the more booze he consumes. Something about alcohol turning up his body temperature - which is already slightly higher than normal because of his dragon spirit animal."

"Well there's a fun thought - one drunken Phoenix trying to light things on fire on a dare and one naked dragon spirit trying to ... who knows what?" Zaphiel shook his head in amusement. 

Rowan looked over towards the Archangels, eyes narrowing in speculation. They were clustered together around Michael, whispering. All but Gabriel who was standing with his back to his twin, watching Khan throw back another drink. "Do you guys trust my judgment?" she asked quietly, pointing towards the tableau in front of her.

Zaphiel looked back and smiled. "Yes, little queen. I think we do."

"Good." She rose from her thrown and walked over to the angelic group, tapping Gabriel on the arm to get his attention. "Can we talk?" she whispered, motioning back towards her chair.

Gabriel stared down at her puzzled. "Yes- if you wish." He shot a look back at his brothers then followed Rowan back to her throne. "What may this Son of God do for the Queen of Fae?" he asked, formally.

"You can start by killing the formal Messenger act. I know why you really came tonight - to see your son. And it's Khan I'm wanting to talk to you about." She looked around him to her brothers - who were lost in conversation about the party goers around them. "Most of his monks have never been with him when he has been falling down drunk. Best they can tell me is that he looses clothing as the night goes on. I and Seraphiel will have to deal with Arthur and Zaphiel will deal with our father but... I was wondering if I could prevail upon you to help us with Khan."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because part of my reason for having this party was to smooth out the last remaining rough patches in our new existence - patches I had not know existed until our journey to Vega." She leaned back into her chair with a sigh. "None of us knew the extent of our previous incarnations relationships with our angelic mentors. We didn't allow ourselves to watch our former incarnations memories as closely as we probably should have. And now that I do know - I'd like to ease everyone into the transition between what was and what is. Starting with you getting to know your "son" better. I know he feels guilty playing with your emotions in Vega - and that he's curious about what his relationship with you was like before the re-write of our lives. Of the three of us - his memories were the only ones that started happy. And maybe I'm a little overprotective of my brothers now. Arthur and I have our father and now Seraphiel to watch out for us, guide us and kick our asses if we step wrong off the path. But Khan has only Master Christoph - and the old necromancer isn't a young man. Even as long-lived as the magic users in our realm are someday he may go on to his reward. And I'd like to think that my brother would have someone who loves him - even more than Arthur and I do - to be there for him to talk to."

Gabriel closed his eyes, feeling the tension drain from his body. "How will he react to your little plan?"

Rowan laughed. "I think he's already expecting me to do exactly what I am doing. I can see him behind you and the looks he keeps giving me say I MIGHT be in trouble with him for a while - but in the end he'll be fine with it. So long as you are, that is."

Gabriel swept his bangs away from his eyes and smiled at the beauty seated in front of him. "I think I can be alright with this."

"Good" Rowan said happily. "You can start by following him back to the bar. I think he might want to apologize to you for Vega. Seems like a good chance to dive into conversation about life in general and his life in particular - don't you think?"

Gabriel bowed. "As you say, my queen, it's a good place to start." He turned and trotted off past his brothers towards the bar.


	16. A conversation between Michael and Rowan

Michael watched as his brother moved over to the thrones with the young queen. Seraphiel and Zaphiel had walked off with the Library caretaker Jenkins, escorting the humans back to the relative safety of the bar. He noticed that Lucifer also moved off, hovering over the human woman Chloe, glaring at any Fae who took notice of her. “I wonder…” he murmured, watching his brother’s brief conversation.

“Wonder what?” Rafael asked, one hand firmly on Uriel’s arm. The youngest of the archangels had been staring raptly at the Firebird King – who had ceased to take notice of any of the angels after the business of the Tribunal had been completed. 

“What she has to say to Gabriel” Michael replied, watching as his twin suddenly started towards the young Master of Dragons, who had moved off from his brother towards the bar. 

Rafael watched the scene as well, noticing that the young dragon “Khan” he correct in his mind, had also glanced back to see if Gabriel was following him. “Maybe she’s trying to bring them together. Miri would have – not sure of the person she is now.”

Michael frowned. “You see them as two distinct beings?”

The hulking angelic healer shrugged. “Same face, same voice – but this young queen is more confident, more her own person than Miri was. Don’t think she would have let Damien get away with the shit that Miri did, especially when it came to …”

“To me” Uriel said, looking back at his brothers. “She wouldn’t have allowed me to pull her brother away from the family. That’s what you’re trying not to say.”

“You loved the boy – that much was obvious” Rafael replied softly. “But angels were not hard-wired for that kind of emotion. Maybe you wanted him so much you did things that weren’t good for either of you.”

“Like what?” Uriel said angrily. “What did I do that was so bad?”

“Letting him use her like he did” Rafael retorted. “Letting him and his father turn her into a key to open the locked Gates so they could put Damien on the Fae throne without wondering what she thought of the plan. She was a KID, Uri! She had lost her parents, been sent to a far-off land to live with strangers and instead of being welcomed and loved she was groomed to be a sacrifice in the old warlord’s plans to retake the old kingdom. And Damien went along with it, even though he knew it would break her heart to find out her “family” only wanted her for her bloodline.”

Uriel’s eyes dropped in shame. “I should have tried harder to change his mind – but he wanted to please his father, wanted to sit that throne and try to make things right. I never thought…”

“Smartest man in the room and yet you never thought about anything besides your boy” Rafael sighed. “I suspect the story didn’t change that much when Father restarted their lives but somehow, something did change. The young King and his Sister/Queen seem so united, so much like what I know Father wanted them to be. Maybe this was a good thing to happen – even if it did wound us to the core.”

Michael watched as Rowan left her throne, talking briefly to her guests as she found a quiet corner to gather her thoughts. “Wait here” he commanded, striding off after here.

Rafael shook his head. “Michael’s no better than you are, little brother. He wants to believe that he can find Miri’s essence in the young Queen but…”

“But you don’t think either of us will get what we want” Uriel said sadly, looking back at the King seated on his throne.

Rowan found the one quiet, hidden spot left in the club and leaned against a wall in relief. She had to shoo an amorous pair out of the corner to have the place to herself but that had not been all that difficult once they knew who had walked in on them. “Sometimes Rank does have its privileges” she mused. 

“Sometimes” a voice agreed. Michael stepped into the shadowy nook, blocking Rowan’s view of the dance floor. “And sometimes all it brings with it is responsibility and pain.”

“And hello to you too” she replied with a chuckle. “Are you always this much of a buzz kill?”

Michael cocked his head at the girl, remembering his brother’s use of the term when they had first arrived. “According to my twin – I suppose I am.” He moved to stand in front of her, trapping her with her back to the wall so she could not escape the conversation. “What are you doing to my brother?”

Rowan glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Trying to get him and my newest sibling to take a moment to sit down and get to know one another.”

“He’s already suffered enough by what our Father has done to you and your siblings. I won’t have his heart broken by this again” Michael said softly.

“Neither will I” she agreed, looking up into his brown eyes. “I think I almost like the blue-eyed, blond avatar of you better. But then again… this face isn’t all that bad.”

Michael’s fist clenched against the wall as he leaned in over her. “Don’t toy with me.”

Rowan rolled her eyes. “You don’t get the concept of flirting, do you? You should ask Lucifer – he’s got that down to an art form.” She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, only to have him pull them away. “Or maybe not. You’re really wrapped around the axel about all of this, aren’t you?”

He frowned, unnerved by her light tone to her voice and her playful actions. Her nonchalance irritated him, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. “I’m not one of your pretty Fae courtiers, so eager to gain favor with their Queen they will allow themselves to be used as amusements when she is bored.”

Rowan frowned, annoyed with his attitude. “Watch your tongue with me, Old One. I am not like those you knew in Vega who sat in worshipful silence at your every word – or graced your bed whenever you needed company.”

Michael pushed off the wall and turned to leave. “My brothers and I have done what we were asked to do. It is time…”

“Oh Bollocks!” Rowan said, exasperated with herself and him. “I’m sorry, Michael, it’s been a long day dealing with getting this party organized and keeping Lucifer from jumping ship in mid-sail.” She shrugged, a sense of weariness coming over her. “I can see why you and my former self were always at odds. I swear we bring out the worst in each other.” She caught Michael by the arm and turned him to look into the dance floor where his younger brothers were still standing, both still watching Arthur slowly get more and more animated as the night grew longer.

“Perhaps we do” Michael admitted, tensing at her touch. “Perhaps that is why Father removed you from my care.”

“The All-Father didn’t remove ME from your care – he removed Miri. She’s a totally different person from me and as confusing as that sounds it’s probably the best way to look at the situation.” She leaned her cheek against his arm, watching the taller of the two angels, Uriel, as he stared unblinkingly at his former companion. “I wonder” Rowan whispered “what stage of grief he’s stuck in?”

Michael looked down at her with a frown. “Stage of grief?” 

Rowan moved in front of him, leaning back into his arms. “Something I learned about from a therapist I knew back in the day. The five stages of grief are a human construct so maybe you wouldn’t know about it – but I can see it playing out between your brother and mine. 

Michael hesitantly wrapped an arm around her waist, tethering her to him and leaned his head on hers. The scent of her hair was intoxicating, wildwood flowers and herbs. She smelled like her woodland home on a spring day. He took a deep breath to study himself, tightening his hold. “Tell me about them – these stages of grief.”

Rowan thought for a moment then sighed. “Not an expert so don’t quote me on this but…First stage – Denial. You say to yourself “this isn’t happening, it can’t happen to me, it wouldn’t happen to me.” Second stage – anger. That’s the “it’s not fair, it’s not right, why did God do this to me?” stage.” She leaned her head back to make sure he was still listening then continued. “Third stage – bargaining. The “if I do this then none of this is real, if I give up this then it will all go away and everything will be alright” stage. Fourth stage – Depression. Not a good state – everything is dark and cold and tasteless. You don’t want to get out of bed, you don’t want to live your life anymore. It all seems so hopeless.”

“And the fifth stage’ Michael whispered, leaning his cheek on the top of her head.

“Acceptance” she replied, watching Uriel and Rafael carefully. “There is an old prayer that goes something like “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” With acceptance you can move on from that plateau of grief you’ve impaled yourself on during the other four stages and find new joy, new happiness, and new life.”

“What stage is Gabriel at?” he asked solemnly. “He is the Heart of Heaven – where his heart goes so does the angelic host.”

“I suspect” she said slowly “that he blew past most of the stages and has worked his way to the other side – maybe. He’s lost a child before, hasn’t he? I think you told us that when you first were dropped into the Great Library.”

Michael shrugged. “An event that do I not remember – but you are right. He lost his first Chosen to their fate. It was his anger and grief at that event that created the rift between us when we were first in Vega.”

“Thought as much” she replied with a sigh. “Second time around probably wasn’t any easier than the first – but at least this time his child was alive and well. It gave him something to hold onto, which made the process easier. I think he will be fine eventually – especially if Khan and he find that middle ground I’m hoping for.”

“What stage do you think my brother Uriel is at?” he asked quietly, recognizing where this conversation ultimately must go.

She shrugged. “I think he’s stuck somewhere between stage one and stage two. He can’t QUITE make himself believe that the companion he so loved, that the All-Father had blessed him with is gone and he’s angry that he can’t do anything about making it all the way it was before.” She turned in his arms and looked up, hazel eyes sad. “He’s going to have to come to terms with the fact that Arthur and Damien are NOT the same. Arthur will do what he will do – and he will love whomever he chooses to love, even if it’s not your brother Uriel.”

“And me?” he asked sadly. “What stage do you think I am at?”

“Depression” she replied, reaching up a hand to brush his hair from his eyes. “I think you probably blew past Denial and Anger when you first heard what had been done to us. You’re not much of a negotiator so you probably skipped right past bargaining. But now you’re trapped in that feeling of being smothered in wet blankets and drowning in your own tears.” She laid both hands on his chest and gently pushed away. “You have to finish the grieving process for the woman I was, Michael, before you can start to understand what you can be to the woman I am now. She and I – we may look alike, may sound alike – but we are very different people. It maybe what I have to give you won’t want and it maybe that what you can offer is not what I need. But neither of us will know that until you finish grieving for what you have lost. Grieve – and let go of your sorrow. When you have done that, look me up. We might have more to give to one another at that point then we do now.” She turned and walked into the garish light and loud music of the Halloween party, leaving Michael to watch, lost in his own thoughts.


	17. Talking to Gabriel and Khan

Across the Club

Khan glanced over his shoulder, watching as his sister Rowan pulled Archangel Gabriel away for a “chat”. He had a pretty good idea what she was up to but for the life of him couldn’t find it in his heart to be angry with her interference. “Kid’s got a good heart” he thought to himself. “She’s just trying to do what’s best for all of us.” He stopped in front of Lucifer’s shinny bar, bumping an already inebriated Were-something out of his way as he reached over and snagged a bottle from the bartender. 

“Sure you can handle that?” a silky voice echoed from behind him. Turning, he found himself looking down into the dark eyes of Gabriel, the Messenger of God. 

Khan shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah – I guess Ro told you I get kind of get silly when I’m smashed. But it’s a party so whose going to notice one more drunk in the crowd?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Probably as good a rationalization as any.” He reached over the bar and found two shot glasses, planting them between himself and the young Master of Dragons. “You pour.”

Khan cocked one eyebrow, a slight grin forming. “Didn’t know angels drank” he said slowly, pouring two shots of whatever he had taken away from the bartender. Clinking glasses, the two tossed back the drinks quickly, not stopping to even taste what they had put in their mouths.

“You have NO taste in booze” Gabriel sighed, taking the bottle away the younger man and tossing it back behind the bar. Motioning the bartender over, he ordered a bottle of Lucifer’s special, high-end booze – Michel’s 25 year-old bourbon – and poured them both a shot. “Now this – this might be worth the pain you’ll be in tomorrow.” 

Khan took a tentative sip then smiled and shot it back quickly. “Not bad, old man, not bad at all. Still kind of weirds me out that an angel drinks…”

“I had a LOT of time on my hands in Vega” Gabriel replied dryly. “This helped. And you’re not supposed toss it back like a shot of Tequila. Sip it – it will go down better and you’ll at least taste what you’re drinking.”

Khan stared down at the shot glass in his hand, his face somber. “If you say so.” He shifted in his seat, not looking up. “Normally I just have something in a glass beside me when I'm strumming my guitar, just to coat my throat. Beer mostly. I like a good dark beer." 

Gabriel nodded. "So you play guitar?" he asked, swirling the liquor in his glass around and around as he considered what path this conversation would take. 

"Yeah - both Arthur and I do. We jam sometimes around his father's hearth or at the monastery. Some of my guys have killer voices and others play keyboards or drums. Hell, we could have a really rocking band if we needed to. You play?"

Gabriel smiled slightly. "I've been known to play stings and sing. Probably better singer."

Khan nodded. "Yeah - that was one of the scenes I saw in that damned memory vault. You singing a lullaby to me. Funny thing - that song was stuck in my head long before I ever saw that event. Use to sing it to any of the new orphan kids who wandered into the monastery to help them feel safe enough to sleep. Never knew where it came from - guess it just stuck with me from one iteration of my persona to the other." He laid the glass down on the bar top gently and looked solemnly back a the Archangel. "Listen, I just want to say I’m sorry about how that all went down in Vega. None of us wanted to lie to you guys about who and what we were but…”

“But you didn’t feel comfortable telling us the whole, painful truth about what had happened to our young ones?” Gabriel sighed. “I can’t blame you. You didn’t know us well enough to trust what our reactions would be.”

“Yeah – sort of. We’d met Michael in the Great Library so there was that but the rest of you…Arthur, Ro and I – we talked about the situation we’d be facing after we pulled the wings off that idiot Metatron. Ro had a theory and frankly it sort of made sense.”

“What theory?” the angel asked, finding a bar stool to sit on so that he didn’t have to be constantly looking up at his former child. The height difference between them left the Archangel feeling at a disadvantage, something he wasn’t used to. The boy’s old personality always seemed to stand in such a way that he didn’t appear to tower over his father – either slumped or wrapped around his father in a hug. This personality didn’t seem to notice or care about the difference in their height as he probably was use to being the tallest person in the crowd. It no longer bothered him to have anyone looking up at him, not even the angel who had once claimed him as son.

“Ro figured that the reason Michael got his ass dropped into the library was because Vega got caught between the tick and tock of change. Makes more sense than it sounds – but she thought that events didn’t go as they should have because the Old Man made changes to our history. You all went into battle against Azazel not knowing where we’d run off to – and our old realities weren’t there to take down the Fallen’s support. So, you all went after your former sibling, got your asses kicked because he was still drawing power from his supporters and Michael gets shuffled off into our reality as it exists now. The Old Man’s way, I guess, of telling us it was time to wake up and start earning our second chance.”

Gabriel thought about the young man’s words carefully, trying not to smile at his calling God Almighty the “Old Man”. “So, you’re conclusion is that…?”

“No conclusions really. We just talked, took a vote and decided we were looking for a fight and this was as good a time as any to find one. Plus – it saved our realm from having to push off any of Azazel’s minions if he happened to actually win the fight.” Khan shrugged, embarrassed. “We actually hadn’t planned on showing ourselves but that drive-by in the streets was too much to ignore. Don’t know how Ro and Arthur got on with your brothers – or at least how Ro got past Michael – but getting dropped in with you…It wasn’t fair to play with your heart the way I had to, making you think you had your kid back and all. I hadn’t really realized how much you cared about my former self until… Ah, Hell! I just want to say I’m sorry for the heartache. Wasn’t my intent.” 

Gabriel smiled. “It’s alright, young one. I know you didn’t mean for this situation to be as painful as it ended up. And truthfully, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. God may have changed the course of my son’s life away from me but he left you to live and grow to be the type of man I had always hoped he would be. For that – I am thankful.”

“So…where do we go from here?” Khan asked, leaning back on the bar so he could watch his brother animatedly talking to his circle of followers and friends.

“I suppose that’s up to you” Gabriel replied cautiously, pouring himself another drink. “Where do you want this to go?”

Khan shrugged. “I know what Ro wants this to lead to. She can be such a mother hen sometimes.”

Gabriel laughed. “Something that has not changed from one reality to the other. Her alternate persona always was invested in keeping you happy.” He took another sip of his drink, relishing the burn as it slid down his throat. “You two were inseparable.”

Khan grinned. “Yea, will this turn of the wheel it’s Ro and Arthur who are inseparable. Have to admit, though, having a brother has advantages. He’s as loopy as I am in certain situations, especially when he’s had a few. Like right now.” He waved at his brother with a grin. “Drank most of the Rum we were splitting so he’s feeling no pain. Drogo says he’s a pretty mellow drunk as long as no one pisses him off.”

Gabriel shot a quick look at his younger brother, who was still standing on the sidelines, watching his former companion with a frown. “Then maybe we should keep Uriel away from him. I suspect those two would not be a good mix right now.”

Khan shot a look at the towering angel across the room. “So – those two? Really? I mean, no offense Gabe, your brother is pretty enough but I just can’t see Arthur loving ANYONE like he does Ro. And now, as strange as this sounds, me.”

“Why would it sound strange?” Gabriel replied with a smile. “You’re very worthy of love.”

Khan blushed, tossing back another shot of the expensive bourbon. “Yeah – that’s what Ro says too. I don’t know about that – I’m just trying to give back some of the kindness and love that was given to me when I was growing up.”

“Must have been hard, living in a monastery with no family of your own” Gabriel probed, pouring himself another shot.

“Not as bad as you might think” Khan mused. “I was left on the steps of a human Taoist monastery when I was born but one of the old Dragon priests had gone walk-about and found me on his way back to our temple. Story is he recognized my Fae bloodline and took me home with him. The Temple hadn’t had a young student in ages – much less a baby so bless their hearts the old men were pretty out of their depths. Luckily, there was a Priestess from another order visiting when Master Lao returned with me. She pretty much took over my care until I was old enough and big enough to start training. And, as my sister will attest, I can be very charming when I want to be. According to my teacher those old priests doted on me from the start. Surprised they didn’t spoil me rotten.”

Gabriel hid his smile of relief. “I suspect your sister probably thinks they did.”

Khan smiled his mega-watt smile. “Yeah – she sort of does. But you know – it’s not like she’s got a lot of room to talk. Vlad spoiled both Arthur and Ro absolutely rotten when they were growing up. Still does, come to think of it. Him and Zaphiel both.” He downed another shot and reached for the bottle.

Gabriel pulled the decanter out of reach. “Slow down, you’ve got all night to get toasted. How did you meet Zaphiel?”

Khan slid the glass over to the angel with a sigh. “Met him in the pocket universe the Loom of Fate was in. He was chasing down Metatron to deliver the Old Man’s sentence for that idiot’s strike at us. Found us pulling the dumb shit’s wings off. I thought we were toast but he just smiled and said we had gotten a little ahead of ourselves but that what we had done was supposed to happen anyway – just not in this order. He filled in a lot of the gaps for us about what was going on. Even came into the Between with us to keep track of the battles. He and Vlad got into a conversation about something and next thing any of us know he’s parked himself at the old warlord’s house when he’s not in front of the Almighty’s throne.” The young dragon master shrugged. “I swear – those two remind me of an old married couple the way they bicker back and forth. Ro likes him – says she feels better leaving her father with him when she has to go into battle. Guess Arthur and I do too.”

“Whoever Rowan likes you two are inclined to like – is that the way it works?” Gabriel murmured, pouring the boy another drink.

“Well – sure. She’s a good judge of character. Likes you, doesn’t she?”

Gabriel smiled as he companion launched into a story about how awesome his sister’s judgement was. Whatever else the Almighty had changed, he had left the core of his son’s personality very much intact. The boy was a light in the darkness, fun-loving, generous and full of heart. And his love for his siblings was as intense as it had been before the change. Gabriel knew that his relationship with the boy who he had claimed as son wouldn’t be as it had been before – but for now this was as good a start as any. At least – they would be together.


	18. Talking to Chloe

In the shadows of the club

Chloe stared down at her drink, pretending to listen as Linda tried to engage her in small talk. She was still processing if coming to the club tonight had been a good idea. It was all just so overwhelming. God was real and her partner (friend, possible love interest) was the Devil. Angels existed as did all manner of non-human entities. It was rapidly becoming too much to think about.

“Hey” Baird’s soft voice called out. The blond Guardian pulled up a barstool and set down beside the too-quiet young woman, a worried look on her face. “How are you holding up?”

“About as badly as you might expect” Chloe whispered, looking up to see one of the “angels” sit at the bar with the big, dark-haired man – the King’s brother. “I never really believed God existed – now I found out I was wrong about him and everything else. Including my partner.”

Baird cut a quick look around the club, spotting Lucifer seated at his piano, absently stroking the keys as he smoked. “Yeah – It probably does feel overwhelming. It was the same for me when I first found out about the Library and all the things it held. Never expected to go from NATO counter-terrorism to fighting a Minotaur but…”

Chloe looked up at her with a frown. “A… Minotaur?”

Baird waved her off with a smile. “Long story – you have enough issues without hearing about that now. Look – this is a lot to take in. I get it. But I also get the impression that you’re stronger than you know. If you weren’t Lucifer would have walked all over you by now.”

“That’s true, Chloe” Linda commented, setting her glasses on the bar for a moment. The good doctor was bright eyed from all the alcohol she had consumed but trying to stay focused for her friend. “He sometimes doesn’t get when he’s crossed the line with normal people but he’s always concerned about his impression on you.”

Baird sat with her back to the bar, the better to keep her Librarians in view. “When I first started this gig with the Library, I had the hardest time accepting that the weird things from fairy tales and horror shows were real. I’d spent all my adult life going from military post to military post, chasing after people who were responsible for some of the most horrible actions. When the Library sent me an invitation to be the Guardian, my first thoughts were that the Librarians were too different, the missions were too strange for me to process. But after a while – I learned to see the things my friends and I chased down as nothing more than really odd Weapons of Mass Destruction that only we could find and neutralize. It’s kind of an odd coping mechanism but it works.” She pointed to the tall blond seated in the middles of the room – the Phoenix King – surrounded by many of his guests. “There would have been a time I’d have had someone locked up if they told me I’d actually meet King Arthur of Camelot fame – yet there he sits, with all these creatures sitting around him hanging on his every word.”

“And I suppose he has a magic sword too” Chloe replied with a bitter laugh.

“Actually, Excalibur lives in the Great Library. He only picks it up when he needs an extra weapon that is loyal to him.” Baird shrugged. “Think of the sword as a big, mean dog made of metal that only obeys certain people. And that man out there – that’s the dog’s original owner.”

Chloe frowned then looked back out at the dance floor. “What about those two?” she asked, pointing to the two tall archangels standing at the outer edge of the young King’s audience.

“Those two” Baird replied carefully “are Uriel and Rafael. Uriel was, as I understand it, bonded to Arthur before God chose to…change up the King’s life. I get the feeling Uriel is trying to see if he still fits into Arthur’s world and not getting the answer he wants.”

“And her” Chloe asked, pointing to the young Queen who had sauntered back to her brother’s side. She leaned over her brother’s shoulder and whispered in his ear for a moment then moved off up the stairs, trailed by a woman in a short, white tunic and a dark-skinned woman in what looked like battle armor.

“Rowan – sister / queen to Arthur. At least that’s what they tell us. We rarely see one without the other. And before you ask, the dark haired one with Gabriel” pointing to the pair in animated conversation at the bar “is a recent addition to their family – their foster brother.”

“Hell of a family tree” Chloe whispered. 

“Yeah – I wouldn’t use that phrase around the archangels if I were you. They have issues with Lucifer finding their “kids” interesting.” Baird watched as Lucifer looked up with a start and moved to follow Rowan. “That’s not good” she pointed out to both Linda and Chloe.

“No, it’s not” Zaphiel replied, appearing out of nowhere beside Baird. “That fool of a Morningstar will start a war if he’s not careful. Michael may not be the girl’s guardian but he still has feelings for her – and my brother Seraphiel will take that idiot Fallen’s head off his bloody shoulders if he sees him trying to interfere with her.”

“Can he do that?” Chloe asked with a frown.

“Damn near did during the First Wat” Zaphiel snorted. “If Michael hadn’t ordered our brother brought alive before the Throne I think Seraphiel would have gutted him on the battlefield.”

Chloe watched in alarm as her partner started up the stairs after his “niece”. “Shouldn’t we warn him?”

“Warn him about what?” Vlad’s silky voice slithered out from behind the elder angel. He carefully laid his glass down and leaned on the bar, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Samael is following Rowan up to his apartment” Zaphiel replied coldly. “He’s going to get himself in trouble…”

Vlad grinned. “I almost hope he does try to go up there” the elder warlord snickered. “I know, for a fact, that Marie showed two Rowan’s personal guard up there right after the court ended. Aella and Artemis have a change of garb for their lady ready and waiting and I’m betting they aren’t going to allow some randy little devil – even if he is the Prince of Hell – to disturb her while she changes.”

Zaphiel smiled. “Then we really should wait. It might actually be amusing to see my brother get handed his head by two old goddesses who are NOT impressed with his line of bull.”

“They wouldn’t hurt him, would they?” Cassandra asked, walking up on the tail end of the conversation. 

“Oh, I certainly hope so” Zaphiel replied, pouring himself and his companion another set of shots. Clinking glasses, they and their human companions waited with baited breath as Lucifer reached the top of the stairs – only to sigh in disappointment as he trotted back down only moments later.

“Well, blast it!” Zaphiel exclaimed. “I really was hoping…”

“If you want excitement, my friend, then cast your eyes out on to the dance floor. It seems your brother Uriel has finally plucked up the courage to approach my son.” Vlad waved his half full glass in front him for emphasis. “This is NOT going to go well.”

“Why?” Chloe asked, trying to remember what she had been told about the tall blond angel and the young King.”

“Because they were once very, very close” Baird replied with a frown. “Or at least, that’s what Lucifer implied. And that was before God re-set the parameters of Arthur’s existence. Problem is – Uriel remembers him as he was not as he is. And he’s obviously not dealing with the changes well.” The Guardian cast a quick look over at Gabriel, who had seen his little brother’s move towards the throne and was watching events with an inscrutable look on his face. “Bad time for Rowan to be changing her clothes.”

“Again, why?” Chloe asked, looking from the assorted angels to the woman beside her.

“Because, my dear, the only person who might be able to keep King Phoenix from saying something he’s going to regret later is his sister. And I have a feeling that whatever those memories they saw told Arthur about the man he was before he blames all of its pain on Uriel.” Gabriel slid off his seat and motioned to Rafael. “Excuse me while I try to keep my little brother from making things worse for himself than they already are.” He darted over to his middle brother and both converged on their youngest, who was already talking to the King.

“As I said before” Zaphiel said dryly. “Gabriel is the only sensible one of the bunch. Here’s hoping he’s not too late to keep Uriel from opening his mouth and inserting his foot up to the knee.”

Vlad shrugged. “It’s a party, old man. Let’s enjoy it before the clock strikes twelve and everyone has to go back to their respective homes.” He wandered off into the shadows with his angelic companion a few steps behind him.

Baird smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a drunk…”

“We don’t talk about his condition” Khan called back, watching the interaction between the angels and his brother. 

Chloe shrugged. “Not sure I want to know what he is anyway.” She stared at Baird for a moment, remembering something from when they have first introduced. “Can I ask you…? Why did you want to know if I’d had a case involving human trafficking recently?”

“Something Lucifer said when he first found out things had changed with the kids” Baird replied thoughtfully. “Things had been off before but he made it sound like it all came to a head when they got involved helping to investigate a case of human trafficking. Not sure of the details – but if you don’t remember one then maybe it got erased as well.”

“Erased?”

“Not something you want to know about right now” Baird reassured.

And with that – all Hell appeared to break loose on the dance floor.


	19. Hurt feelings

On the dance floor

Rafael watched the young Firebird King gather his subjects around him as though they were back in the fields around a campfire – not in a fancy L.A. nightclub surrounded by a modern mortal city. Someone had found a bottle of mead for the King and he alternated between telling a long, involved story and drinking. Laughter flowed from the group as it grew more and more crowded, with the various magical beings finding a comfortable spot to listen to their Ruler tell his tales. “He’s in a good mood tonight” the angel commented to no one in particular.

“He’s drunk” Uriel replied flatly. “He never lost control of his drinking like that before.”

“Probably because he was massively uptight before” Rafael muttered. “He’s not out of control – he’s just relaxed and talking to men and women who know and have fought beside him. There is NOTHING wrong with that, little brother.”

Uriel glared at his twin then set his shoulders back. “I need to speak to him. I need to make him see this is not appropriate for a ruling head of state.”

“No you don’t” Rafael said, trying to lay hands on his brother’s arms. “He’s doing what he must have always done, just like his father did before him, sit at his fire with those who swore fealty to him and bond with them over brave tales and ale. You can’t just push all this aside and try to force him into acting like someone he’s not. Not like this.” Rafael gave his brother a quick shake, watching out of the corner of his eye as Gabriel leapt to his feet and started towards them. “Brother, for our Father’s sake, it’s a party. Let the boy enjoy himself for once!”

Uriel shrugged forcefully out of his brother’s grip and marched past the assembled Fae to stand to one side of the throne. “A word, King Phoenix, if you please” he said stiffly.

Arthur looked up at the towering angel, his bottle hanging between two fingers as he leaned back in his chair and examined Uriel’s tense features. His blue eyes hardened as he took note of the stiff stance the Archangel had assumed. “No.” he replied, waving the angel off. “I’m not finished with my story. Come back when I’m done.”

“You’re drunk” Uriel hissed, moving closer. “This is no way for a King…” He ducked as the bottle the Phoenix had been holding came sailing towards his head. “Damien! Stop this! You’re being childish, letting Lucifer’s influence rule you! You’re sitting there like you’re at some damned campsite with your man-at-arms perched on your chair, laughing at you. This is not how a King behaves! This is not how you and I decided your rule would be. ”

“You have NO RIGHT to chastise me” Arthur growled, rising up from his seat, the difference in their heights disappearing in the aura of the King’s rage. The assembled lesser magic creatures cringed back at the cold anger dripping from the Arthur’s eyes. Many who were part of Arthur’s house guards pushed forward, prepared to defend their monarch from this obvious threat, only to be stopped by Drogo who waved them off an took his place behind his Master. “You have no say in what I do or who I do it with – especially if you can’t even call me by my correct name! “

Drogo shifted slightly behind his King, looking over at Lucifer, who shrugged and stepped out of the line of fire. “Well, that’s helpful – not” the Black Dragon muttered, stepping back out of range of his Master’s sword arm. The King’s sword, draped over his throne, began to glow with a reflection of its Master’s anger.

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we – since you seem to be somewhat slow on the uptake” Arthur snarled, almost trembling in fury. “First – MY NAME is Arthur! Arthur – once and future King, Lord of Fire, King Phoenix. THAT is my name, THAT is who I am – not that broken, whiny little boy you wrapped up in your wings to protect from EVERYTHING and EVERYONE – and caused him to lose all that should have been his. Most of those memories presented to me of that existence disappeared when I shattered the cylinder but that much I do remember. HE – this Damien you insist on carrying on about – was on the verge of losing his family and his kingdom just to be with you. Well, here’s a news flash for you boyo. I’m not him. I had no winged companion in my youth – only my good father who taught me right from wrong and how to be an honorable man. And his first lesson was not to disrespect a man – even my enemy – in front of his people. As you have just done to me. And do NOT insult Lucifer in my presence. He, at least, has had the courtesy to offer me the use of his domicile for my court without conditions on my behavior. He has not chosen to treat me like an errant child – as you seem to be doing.” Arthur opened his hand and his King’s sword flew from its perch on the throne to his hand, fire streaming from the blade as it moved. The flames that had been in the young Phoenix’s eyes when he had first arrived in the club had returned, streaming from the corners of his eyes like tears. “I am no bird in a gilded cage, a pet to be loved but locked away, yearning to be free. I AM KING PHOENIX! I RULE! And you – you do not rule me!”

Uriel felt his brother’s converge on him, Rafael grabbing his shoulders, Gabriel on one arm and even Michael on his other side. “Respect is earned, little phoenix. I am my Father’s wisdom, you are his creation and MY student. You will…”

“No he will not” Michael snarled through gritted teeth. “Damien is no more – this is Arthur and he is NOT yours to command like some damned pet dog! He sits the Fae throne, a throne he earned without assistance or interference from us. Either you learn to live with this, little brother, or you face our Father’s wrath – and MINE!” 

“What is happening?” Rowan’s voice rang out over the club as the young Queen raced down the stairs, her long hair flowing out behind her. Her personal guard and the witch Marie raced to keep up with her as she slid between the enraged pairing, stopping finally to face Uriel with her back to her brother. “How Dare You disrupt my King’s gathering?”

“Get out of my…” Uriel stopped as he found himself staring down in shock at Seraphiel’s blade at his throat.

“Manners, little boy” the Seraphim said quietly. “I know you’ve had no need of them before but I think you might want to consider them now. Or I will force them down your throat for threatening my charge.”

“Your charge?” Uriel snarled. “Is that what the witch is then, just your…student?”

“She is my child” Seraphiel’s Irish accent growing deeper as his anger built. “As are her brothers. And may I remind you, Brother, that these three were the ONLY ones who had the heart to look for me when the battle was over. You lot were happy to see the end of me. So don’t look to me for respect or obedience. As you so rightly pointed out – respect is earned and you haven’t earned mine.”  
Zaphiel strode out of the shadows behind the thrones, the elder warlord at his side. “Enough of this – your task here is done. I suggest you lot go back to Heaven and lay your issues at our Father’s feet.”

“Yes” Arthur said coldly. “Why don’t you all go home and talk to the Old Man? Maybe he can clarify for you what your jobs are before you make yet another mess that we need to clean up. Go – ALL OF YOU! I will have no angel in my or my siblings presence. GO!”

Rowan took a deep breath and laid a hand on Seraphiel’s arm. “Go. Take your brothers and return to the Throne. This was a mistake on my part – I should have known they weren’t ready.”

The old Seraph eyed the young Queen with a frown. “You would send me away as well?”

“I don’t want to” she admitted. “But right now – I think it might be best if both you and Zaphiel returned with them. At least until…”

“Until my son has had time to himself to make this all right in his head” Vlad replied softly, laying a long-fingered hand on the shoulder of his companion angel. “Right now – everything is too raw. Best to let things go for a while and see if it can be mended later.”

Zaphiel nodded. “Agreed, old friend.” He glared at the Archangels gathered in front of him, then motioned to his old shield brother. “Come on Seraphiel – I have a sudden urge to stand before our Heavenly Father and pray for respite from this chaos.”

Seraphiel sheathed his sword and turned to his charge. “I’ll go – but if anything threatens you, if you are frightened by anything you can’t handle alone…”

“Trust me – you’ll hear me screaming all the way to the back of Heaven” she replied with a sad smile. 

The air grew thin again and all the angels, including a still protesting Uriel, were soon gone. Rowan sighed and motioned to her guard and to the towering Cernunnos, who had sobered up as soon as the quarrel had begun. “Party is over – send our people back to their homes. Make sure there are no stragglers – I don’t want to have to chase anyone down tomorrow.”

Khan walked up, avoiding eye contact with his brother. “I’d best take my monks back to the monastery, check on how things are there. Talk at you guys later?”

“Yeah – later.” She stood up on her toes and kissed her brother goodbye, watching as he gathered his cloaked priests together and disappeared into the rapidly forming mists.

“Sissy” Arthur’s voice was somber as he lowered his sword. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be” she replied with a shrug. “I should have known this would happen. Not everyone can go with the flow the way we can. Maybe the Old Man can fix things for his sons – but for right now…”

“Right now” Vlad said, walking up behind his son. “We need to go home.”

“I think I’ll stay behind, at least for a while” Rowan replied with a shrug. “Tomorrow is All Souls Day and I… I had plans.”

“Do you want us to go with you?” Arthur whispered, mentally kicking himself for his loss of control. She had worked so hard for this party and he had just destroyed it all in a fit of temper.

“No – it’s fine. Marie will go with me. She always does.”

Baird and Jenkins also joined the group, waving the other Librarians (especially Flynn) back. “Need some company?” Baird asked quietly.

Rowan smiled. “Thanks for the offer but I’m fine. Just need to spend some time with myself. You and Galais take the Librarians back home.”

“Not much of a party, was it old friend?” Arthur rumbled, taking Jenkins hand. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“There is nothing you need to make up” Jenkins protested, gripping his friend’s shoulder. “This was not your fault.”

“Of course it was my fault” Arthur said with a shrug. “I let the prat get under my skin. I know better than that. But I did – and now I’ve hurt my siblings.”

“Come, Arthur” Vlad’s voice, quietly sympathetic, wrapped the remaining members of the group in sadness. “Time to go home.”

“Yes father” Arthur replied with a sigh. And with that, the old warlord and the young King were gone.

“Come, ma petite belle” Marie cooed. “I will make you a cup of chocolat chaud before you go to bed. It will help you sleep.”

Rowan sighed. “Only if you remember to put the Crown Royale in the cup along with the chocolate.” She embraced Baird and Jenkins and stepped back. The sound of wind chimes filled the room and both the Queen and her friend were gone.

Lucifer looked around the club with a sigh. “Well – here’s hoping Rowan remembers she’s paying for the damages.”


	20. Next Day

Next Day

Lucifer stalked down to the club’s dance floor, his bathrobe wrapped firmly around his naked form. The previous night had been a total loss as far as the Prince of Hell was concerned. Not only had he NOT been able to work his charms on his pretty faux niece but all of the Fae had dutifully returned to their homes after the throw down with his Archangel brothers. He had not had time to try to convince even one of the prettier magic users to stay and “enjoy his hospitality”. And now, at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning someone was pounding on his walls, shaking the building as they did so. He stared balefully into the club area, watching as a dozen human contractors scurried about, dragging in new sheetrock and flooring, assembling cans of paint beside the bar and essentially taking his whole club apart from the ground up. “What do you think you are DOING?!” he yelled out.

One of the contractors looked up and shrugged. “Talk to the Jefe” he replied, pointing towards the bar area. “Man says be here early – we start work early.” He walked off, calling out to other workers in Spanish to start work on the far wall.

Lucifer glared balefully at the bar, stalking over to talk to whoever had disturbed his sleep – only to come to a dead stop. At the bar was Arthur, the Fae King, in a t-shirt and jeans with a set of plans spread out in front of him. “What the bloody Hell are you doing here at this hour of the morning?” 

Arthur looked up with a wry smile. “Sissy promised we’d fix anything we broke if you let us have the party here. I’m just here to make sure that happens. By the way – you’ve really got some issues with your wiring and floors in that back area of the club. My contractors will take care of that along with everything else.”

Lucifer’s mouth dropped as he watched the young King, in perfect Spanish, call out orders to the various workmen pulling up flooring and putting up drywall. “You’ve lost your mind, you know that right? You’ve gone completely mental.”

Arthur gave the Prince of Hell a quizzical look. “No – we made you a promise and I intend to honor it.”

“At this hour of the morning!?”

Arthur laughed. “Dude, I’m usually up and running by five. This is LATE for me.”

“Like I said – mental.” Lucifer walked around the bar and poured himself a drink. “Why not just do it with magic? After last night’s demonstration you certainly have the power to make anything you want happen. Why not this?”

“Don’t like relying on magic for things I can do normally. Makes you too dependant. Considering what’s been happening with me lately – I like to make sure I have options in case your Old Man decides to erase my gifts along with my history.” Arthur flashed a boyish grin at his grumpy companion. “Besides – I’m pretty good at DIY. You kind of have to be when the castle you fought a war to inhabit turns out to be a wreck that a good breeze could blow over – and you don’t have anyone left in your entourage that can re-build it.”

Lucifer conceded the point grudgingly. “So – what happened after you all left? Anything salacious, interesting, worth getting me up at this hour of the morning to hear about?”

“Not really” Arthur sighed. “Father and I went back to the Fae lands, Khan retreated to his monastery and Sissy…”

“Yes – where did your sister disappear to?”

Arthur played with the pencil he had been using to scribble on the drawings. “She’s probably in New Orleans. It’s Day of the Dead so she’s probably headed to one of the Cities of the Dead to put flowers on her parent’s graves.”

“So, dear old Dad left her with memories of her dead parents. How kind of him. “

Arthur shrugged. “No clue what she knew or didn’t know about them from our previous incarnations. This turn of the wheel – she really doesn’t have solid memories of them. She’s been my father’s daughter since she can remember. We’ve always tried to keep some stories of them alive for her but she’s never seemed all that interested until a few years ago. That’s when she found where their bones were interred during a trip to New Orleans. At least, that’s where their mortal remains used to be before Hurricane Katrina. Miss Marie, that Creole witch friend of Sissy’s, believes those particular above ground tombs and their contents might have been spared the damage the hurricane did to the rest of the city but we still aren’t sure.” He stared down at the plans with a frown. “I think at this point even if their mortal remains aren’t literally still in that tomb it still stands as a monument to their short existence.”

Lucifer offered the bottle to the young man in sympathy then laid it back on the bar. “My brothers really did a number on you lot last night, didn’t they?”

“Your brother Uriel did – and I didn’t help matters by going off the deep end. Sissy really hoped that the party would be a soft start to our getting to know them again as friends and assets. It almost worked too – looked like Gabriel and Khan were getting on good. Now…”

“Now you lot start living your lives as you did before they tried to move back in on you.” Lucifer poured himself another drink. “Not like you need them – you had been doing fine before Mikey fell into your laps.”

Arthur smiled sadly. “Yeah, I guess so. We’ll see how things go from here. But in the meantime, I need your approval to do some major ripping up of the club. You’ll be down a few days – but it will better in the long run.” He pointed to the plans as he explained to the slightly-more-awake Devil all that needed to be changed.

In New Orleans

Rowan stopped suddenly, blinking into the bright light of a French Quarter morning. “Well” she said slowly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Jenkins, impeccably dressed in a suit and bow tie, bowed slightly to the young woman in front of him. “I thought you and I might have a chat.”

Rowan cocked her head, a slight smile forming. “Let me guess – you’re going to tell me that my brother was not to blame for the fiasco that was my Halloween party.”

Jenkins sighed. “Am I that transparent?”

Rowan took the older man’s arm and started off towards Café du Monde. “Yes – quite transparent. And quite sweet. But you needn’t have worried. I know what happened wasn’t Arthur’s fault. The sad thing is I had just finished telling Michael that his brother was still trapped in the first stages of grief – then I turned my back and wasn’t there to ward him off when the dam of his emotions finally burst.” She found them a quiet table, away from the crowd of tourists that fluttered around the famed site and ordered them both café au lait and beignets. “A bit messy but oh so good – and I could use the sugar and caffeine this morning.”

The service was quick and efficient, depositing their order in front of them in minutes. Jenkins carefully took a bite of the powder sugar covered pastry and smiled. “A tad sweet for my taste – but still quite good.”

“I rarely eat in the morning” Rowan said, taking a sip of her coffee. “But this I think I could have every day and not get tired of it.” She smiled up at her companion, pouring a little honey on her beignets. “You care so much for your old friend, don’t you Galais? Enough to track me down in New Orleans just to assure me that Arthur didn’t mean to hurt me. How did you find me, by the way?”

The old knight shrugged, carefully brushing powdered sugar off his coat. “When you and Ms. Laveau disappeared together I made a calculated guess that you both would come here. I had met her here once before – when we were trying to rescue you and Arthur from that demonic horror you locked yourselves away with. It didn’t take long to find the street again – and there you were.” He took a sip of his chicory coffee, staring down at his friend’s sister. “As for Arthur, I know he would have done the same for me.”

“Yes, I think he would” she mused. “I had such hope for last night.”

“Hope is good thing” Jenkins replied quietly. “Hope is something to be valued, treasured. Something that should not be allowed to die.”

“And yet – Angels are not programmed to deal with human emotions like love and desire. It’s hard for them to integrated it into what they do understand – their love for the Almighty and desire to serve him in all things. So an angel finding himself obsessed with his human charge was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Yet not all of them had such extreme reactions” Jenkins remarked.

“No, but they all had issues. Gabriel grieved the loss of a child he’d loved since infancy and Michael…” She sighed, playing with her coffee cup. “Poor Michael. Loving my alternate self just made things confusing for him. Remember the Apocryphal books of the Bible? The story of the Watchers who fell from Grace because they had relations with human women probably terrified that poor Archangel. Imagine being tasked with teaching and caring for a mortal fighter and discovering you’ve fallen in love with them – the very thing you had sent your brethren to Hell for doing.”

“I suspect that in the case of the Watchers” Jenkins remarked dryly “love had nothing to do with their actions.”

Rowan laughed. “I KNEW there was a reason I liked you. You see things so clearly no matter how messed up they really are. I totally agree – the Watchers were probably punished for their lust and for taking what they wanted from the daughters of Eve. But to Michael, everything must be black and white. So imagine his dismay to find himself guilty of the same sin he had just punished others of his kind for. Poor thing – it must have been maddening to both him and my alternate self.”

“And Uriel?”

She shrugged. “I think he just allowed himself to become obsessed and overwhelmed by this new and different feeling. I think it will be up to the Almighty to deal with that issue – way above my pay grade.” She smiled across the table at the Library's caretaker. "Arthur was right about you. You are a good man, a keeper as it were. No wonder the Grail showed itself to you."

Jenkins blushed slightly, pleased by the compliment. “I think that Arthur, despite what he said last night, would be amenable to have SOME of the angelic choir interacting with you and Khan.” 

“I suspect your right – and not only about Gabriel but Seraphiel and Zaphiel as well. Ultimately, we three will have to discuss this clusterfuck and make a decision. But for today – I think I need to return to Lux and make my apologies to Lucifer for putting him in the center of this mad little plan. I would hate to think last night’s events had made his therapist’s job any more difficult that I’m sure it already is.”

“Poor woman” Jenkins replied dryly. “I would not want to be in her position today.”

In the temple

Khan walked around a group of his monks, busily practicing their martial arts moves, carefully correcting posture and placement of feet. This was the part of his morning he most loved – especially since the “monks” were, in fact, orphan Fae children who were housed in the temple. Most had no family to take them in or were half-bloods who their community would not accept. This was the only home they had ever known and Master Khan the only father figure they could remember. The children, boys and girls alike, rose early, worked on their fighting skills then scampered off to breakfast and their studies. It was NOT how the temple had been before the war to free the Sidhe but it was the way it was now and Khan would not change it for anything.

“Master Khan” Master Christoph’s gentle voice caught the Master of Dragon’s attention as the old necromancer approached. “Maybe we speak?”

“Bit early for you, isn’t it old friend?” Khan rumbled, clapping his hands to release the children to their morning meal. They scampered off laughing, many stopping to give their teacher a quick hug on their way to the kitchen.

“When you’re as old as I am, young dragon, you will realize that sleep is overrated.” He waved the hulking young priest over to a bench and sat down with a sigh. “So… I hear last night did not go as planned?”

Khan shrugged. “We ended those murdering, demon summing beasts and dealt with Constantine’s feathery ride-along best we could.”

“Not what I’m talking about, young one, and you know it.” The old man’s piercing eyes swept over the younger man’s face. “Your sister had a plan for the rest of the night – and as I understand it from Master Vlad – one of the archangel’s didn’t cooperate.”

"Yeah - the one attached to Arthur's previous incarnation. He pretty much came unglued when my brother kicked back in his throne and started telling stories to our guests. Still don't know what was so bad about that - everyone was happy, relaxed. No one was fighting even with the huge amount of booze that was flowing. Then dipshit Uriel decides he needs to try to put a leash on Arthur. You can IMAGINE how that went over."

Christoph winced in sympathy. "Yes - sadly I can. What about the other angels in attendance? Didn't they have something to say about their brother's behavior?"

"Michael pretty much threatened his brother's continued existence if he didn't get over himself but by that time it was too late. Damage done. Arthur ordered all of them, Seraphiel and Zaphiel included, out of his sight. The others pretty much piled in on Uriel and did as the King commanded. Probably returned to Heaven." Khan frowned down at his old teacher. "How did you hear about what happened so fast?"

Christoph smiled. "I've taken to having breakfast with the old warlord Vlad. To say he was not in good mood this morning would be an understatement."

"Yeah - he and Zaphiel had become gaming partners. I'm sure sending that old Throne away probably didn't put the old man in the best of moods." Khan watched as the children slowly walked out of the kitchen with their morning meal in their hands. "I didn't sleep much last night. Meditated mostly to get myself into place in my head where I could decide what I felt about what happened."

"And did you make a decision?"

Khan shrugged. "Not blaming Arthur - I probably would have reacted the same way if someone was trying to drag me back into a reality I had come to loathe. And poor Rowan - probably feels like it's her fault for not being there to stop things before they got out of control. But, of course, it wasn't her fault either. I think best course of action is let things cool off for a while. Maybe get Lucifer's brother Amenadiel to act as our go-between when the dust has settled. I get the feeling that at least Seraphiel isn't going to take being exiled from Rowan too well so figure we'll at least see him soon."

"And Archangel Gabriel?"

Khan took a deep breath. "Yeah - about him. I really kind of liked him when we were talking at the bar. He didn't push the whole "I am your parent" thing on me - just talked to me like he wanted to get to know me better. Given a chance - I could be okay seeing him again too."

Christoph smiled. Vlad had made the same observations to him at breakfast, explaining that while the final decision would be Arthur's, he suspected that at least these two angels (and possibly Zaphiel) would not be absent from the realm for long. "So - what's your next move?"

"Go back to Lux. I'm betting Arthur is tearing the club apart and putting it back together again since Sissy promised Lucifer we'd repair any damages. I'm pretty handy with a hammer - figured I'd go help out."

"And see your brother?" Christoph said quietly.

"Yeah - that too. Dang it - we've only been brothers for a short time but I miss his dumb ass when he's not around. Miss Ro too. Betting she'll be on her way to Lux as well, since those two can't seem to be away from each other for long."

"Well then" Master Christoph said with a smile "best you be on your way then."

"Soon as I find my tool kit."


	21. In Heaven

In Heaven

Rafael trimmed another of the medicinal herbs he cared for in the celestial garden known in biblical lore as Eden. He had chosen to retreat there after their disastrous return from the Earthly realm, having been banished from the sight of the Fae King in response to his twin brother Uriel's actions. The quiet of the garden, the place where humanity had first been created, usually filled him with peace but today...

Behind him, the sound of wings filled the air. Looking up Rafael saw the elder Throne Zaphiel folding his wings back, his robes floating around his lean frame. "Brother Zaphiel - didn't know you were inclined to enjoy the garden."

"I'm not" the angel admitted, picking his way to where the Archangel was kneeling. "I'm just... unsettled."

Rafael frowned. "You aren't the only one." He heaved his large frame up, shaking off clippings as he did so. "Seen Seraphiel since last night?"

Zaphiel sighed. "Last I saw of my shield brother he was terrorizing some younger Seraphim in the training grounds in Purgatory. He’s pushing his line harder and harder to make sure there isn’t another attempt to breach the walls of Hell like the one the Triad was able to shut down. But he’s not making things any easier for his younger brothers or the soldier angels from the other choir, the Powers or my own brothers. His whole heart and grace had become wrapped around that little Fae girl Father allowed him to protect and now…To say he is NOT in a good mood would be an understatement." He looked around at the plants in disinterest, remembering their return to Heaven. “Lucky for you lot I was able to distract him with other matters – not sure what he would have done to your twin if they had arrived together. I fear that keeping apart maybe our best option – at least for now.”

Rafael nodded. "Yeah - agreed. Don't know if you saw what happened when we returned..."

"Not really" the Throne admitted. "I was more concerned with keeping Seraphiel occupied and away from your siblings."

"Yeah - thought so" Rafael stared across the infinite garden and shrugged. "Got home, Gabriel started to walk away, Uriel tried to stop him and got knocked on his ass by our elder brother. Uriel loves Gabe – so it scared my twin to be attacked that way. Gabriel didn't even say a word to him, just upper cut to the jaw and then walked off. Michael, on the other hand, unloaded on Uri. Called him every name in the book, reamed him up one side and down the other like he was a raw recruit, told him he was selfish, self-centered, uncaring. Told him he was so focused on what he didn’t have any more that he wasn’t seeing the pain his actions had inflicted on Gabriel. Told him it would serve him right if the young King NEVER chose to have him in his life again. And THAT was before we all stood before the throne of the Almighty. By the end of that audience, my brother was shaken to his core and terrified his thoughtless words would have some terrifying effect not only on our young ones but on Gabriel as well."

"It won't" Zaphiel replied. "Father is angry but not at the kids. They did well against the human vermin who tried to open a door into Hell and release demons into the mortal world. His faith in them was justified. They will work things out for themselves given time. But..."

"But?" Rafael asked, troubled.

"But for right now it would be best for all if Uriel stayed out of the human realm. Another such incident and archangel or no archangel - Father will direct me to sentence him to punishment for his crime."

"What Crime!?" Rafael exclaimed. "For loving a boy that no longer exists and not being able to understand why it happened? For pushing too hard to get that beloved being back into his life?"

"For treating our Father's creations like they were possessions." Zaphiel replied. "Arthur, Rowan and Khan aren’t rag dolls to be played with when you desire to, Rafael, they have free will and purpose. As God’s protectors of the human race they have the right to determine what path they will take to further Father’s plan. And make no mistake, those three are loyal to the Almighty, willing to do as they are directed and protect his creations - preferably without interference from us. On top of that they are Fae born. The Fae were created after us. It makes them more like us than the humans they interact with. If it had been any other member of the angelic choir who had spoken King Phoenix as Uriel did, I would be sentencing them to time guarding the gates of Hell or throwing their feathery asses into Purgatory for their arrogance." Zaphiel stepped back, releasing his wings for flight. "If you see your brothers - tell them it is by decree of our Almighty Father that unless the Triad requests their presence they are to stay at their posts in the Silver City. If they have any messages they wish to send down they are to do it through Amenadiel. He, at least, is still trusted by God our Father. More so, it seems, than any of us." With a quick jump, the angel's wings took him up and out of sight of the Archangel, disappearing into the distance.

"Wonderful" Rafael grumbled. "Michael's going to be SO happy to hear that." 

In another part of Heaven

Michael watched his twin with worried eyes. Gabriel had not spoken a word since he had dropped Uriel on his ass after their return from the Halloween party. Not a word – not even in front of the Lord’s throne when Uriel had begged for the return of his Chosen One – only to be told that there was no Fae leader named Damien anymore, only the young King Arthur. And all of them had been told in no uncertain terms they were NOT to disregard the Phoenix’s demand that they stay away from both he and his family or the Lord of all Things would ensure that none of his angelic children would be able to torment the Triad again with their unwanted presence, Gabriel had simply bowed to the Throne, speechless, and moved off to take his place in the Choir. “Brother” Michael said quietly. “Talk to me. You’ve said nothing since we returned.”

“What is there to say?” Gabriel replied. “I’ve seen my child. He’s healthy, happy and better off without me in his life. It was all I wanted going into the party. I should not have allowed myself to believe there could be anything more.”

“That isn’t so!” Michael protested. “Uriel made the young King angry. Once Arthur has calmed down he will re-think his ban and you will see your child again!”

“Funny” Gabriel mused. “We use to call Uriel our optimist. Now, it seems, that title should pass to you. The young Phoenix will not change his mind – he has decided that he must protect his family from our interference at all costs.”

“You and Uriel are suffering from the same delusion that the man you are dealing with is Damien – not this new iteration of him. The man he was before would have taken a hard line but this one…”

Gabriel frowned. “You spoke to his sister. Did you not see your Miri in her?”

Michael looked out across the vastness of Heaven for a moment then shook his head. “No – I did not. This woman was not the heartbroken child I remember Miri being at the end. She is strong and independent.” He smiled slightly. “And, unless I miss my guess, perfectly willing to kick her brother’s ass if he tried to treat her as Damien treated Miri.”

Gabriel raised one eyebrow, intrigued by his brother’s smile. “Pity she wasn’t there when Uriel first tried to reign in his former companion.”

Michael’s smile grew. “Actually – probably lucky for Uriel. I think she would have handed him his head then sent him to his room.”

Gabriel chocked back a laugh, remembering the times – before the creation of mankind and the fall of Lucifer – he had been tempted to do that exact same thing to the youngest of their line. “Now THAT I would have paid to see.”

Michael nodded, glad to see his twin was not as closed off as he had been. “I have faith, brother, that all will be well soon enough. Arthur and Rowan will not keep you from forging a new relationship with your son.”

“And you?” Gabriel asked, quietly.

“And I… will have to learn to understand the intricacies of flirting if I am to get to know this new young Queen.” He stared across at his brother with an amused grin. “Think Lucifer would teach me?”

Gabriel laughed heartily. “Oh no, brother, not Lucifer. What he’s likely to teach you will get your wings burnt off by the lady – not counting what her brothers would do to you.”

Michael shrugged, the relieved grin still on his face. “Worth a try.”

Gabriel chuckled. “If you want, I’ll teach you the nuances of human relationships. Or at least try to. Sometimes, you really can be…”

“A buzz kill?” Michael hazarded, trying not to laugh.

“Something like that” Gabriel agreed.

“Something like what?” Zaphiel’s voice boomed out across the cloudy fields. The slender Throne strode out of the mists, a determined look on his face.

“Nothing” Michael said, shaking his head at his brother. “What are you doing here? Should you not be beside the Throne?”

“I was headed that way. Have either of you seen Uriel since your “discussion” with Father?”

Both Archangels looked at their brother blankly. “No. Why?”

“Just checking. You don’t suppose the idiot would ignore what our Father has commanded do you?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I would hope he’s still the smartest one in the room – smart enough to know when he can’t win an argument.”

“I hope you’re right” Zaphiel muttered. “I have had enough tribunals in this last year to last an eternity. I would not like to open one on an Archangel – that was hard enough after the Fall, much less now. I’ve told Rafael and now I’m passing the message on to the two of you. If you have a message for the Triad send it with Amenadiel. Stay out of the human realm until things settle down. And if you see him, tell Uriel the same.”

Michael sighed, shaking open his dark wings. “Looks like we’d best go looking for him then.”

Gabriel nodded, spreading open his own wings. “You first. I suspect if he sees me coming we’ll never catch up to him.” The two archangels leapt up into the mist and disappeared, leaving the elder Throne to contemplate what would come next.

In a far corner of the Heavenly garden

Uriel sat hunched under a tree, his heart and mind filled with regrets. Last night had been an unmitigated disaster. The young Fae King had demanded that the angels stay away from him and his family, devastating not only himself but Seraphiel, Zaphiel and worst of all – Gabriel. “I didn’t mean to hurt him” he muttered to himself, pulling his knees in to his chest. “I just didn’t think.”

“Which for you is rarity” Rafael’s replied. Uriel’s twin stepped off a path into the garden, still brushing dirt and clipping off his robes. “You’re supposed to be our Father’s Wisdom – instead you acted like a jerk.”

Uriel looked up with a frown. “Damien was drunk…” he began.

“No – you will NOT try to rationalize what you did to him” Rafael interrupted angrily. “And the man’s name is Arthur – not Damien. Damien doesn’t exist – remember? Or have you manage to blot Father’s words out of your mind just like you seemed to have wiped Gabriel’s grief out of your heart?”

Uriel’s mouth fell open, shocked. “I didn’t mean to hurt him! I would NEVER hurt Gabriel! He’s our elder brother and I love him I just wanted…”

“You wanted that young King to dance to your tune, to act like someone he isn’t, someone whose memories he’s seen and abhorred, someone who nearly pissed away his family for the sake of a…” Rafael stopped, censoring his last thoughts. “It’s not going to get better until you get past the idea that Arthur is anyone but who he is – King Arthur, King Phoenix and Master of the Fae. And the sooner you understand that the only people that man owes his heart and soul to are his father, his sister and brother and the community that has sworn allegiance to him the better. It’s bad enough that Gabriel can’t get to know his child’s new iteration but now neither Michael NOR Seraphiel can form bonds with Rowan either. You’ve screwed all of us, little brother.”

Uriel hung his head, guilt flooding through him. “I…I’m sorry!”

“Don’t tell me – tell Michael and Gabriel. They are the only ones who might still be willing to hear. From what Zaphiel said to me, Seraphiel is taking out his frustration on the guards mounted around Hell and any new Seraphim, Thrones or Powers Father has created to replace those destroyed in our last few clusterfucks. Neither of those elders of their line nor Father are willing to hear your excuses so you had better hope our elder brothers are. The Triad will need help eventually against something or someone the Fallen try to send up from Hell – and our not being there for them because of you is, as far as I am concerned, not an option.” Rafael released his wings and shot off, leaving his twin to stare down at his feet in sadness.

Uriel rose unsteadily, unsure of his next move. “Father has erased the Triad as they were and the Triad as they are now are not willing to have us near them – because of me. This is all my fault yet I can’t go to them and try to make this right. What do I do?” He wandered a while in the garden, blinded by sadness to its beauty, until he reached the gates. 

“There he is” Michael’s voice called out from above him. Gabriel and his twin landed feet away from the youngest of their line, grim faced as they stared him down. “Where have you been? Zaphiel said…”

“I can imagine what he said” Uriel muttered.

“Stop the attitude, little one” Gabriel growled. “Like him or not, the eldest Throne was right to be concerned especially after your actions of last night.”

Uriel’s eyes stayed firmly locked on his feet. “I’m sorry” he muttered. “I… guess I was out of line.”

“You GUESS?” Michael replied, astonished. “You walked up to the King of Fae, in front of his people and treated him like an errant child then verbally abused their Queen for good measure. You were more than out of line, little brother.”

“How many times must I say I’m SORRY!” Uriel replied, his voice rising with emotion. “I was just trying…”

“To get back what you lost” Gabriel whispered softly. “But that’s not possible now, little one. Now, we must begin again, trying to know the people that Father has given the title of Triad, try to support them without overwhelming them and make them see that we are not the enemy – the darkness is.”

“I…I’m sorry Gabriel” Uriel replied hesitantly. “I never meant to hurt you. I just, it hurt he wouldn’t even look at me so I guess…”

“You acted outrageously to get his attention. And it worked – but not the way you expected it.” Gabriel sighed. “At least we can still watch their actions from here, from the Silver City, and hopefully use Amenadiel to keep our lines of communication open. Father has instructed him to be the go-between for Heaven and the Fae crown.”

“Why Amenadiel?” Uriel asked, suddenly curious.

“Why not?” Michael said with a shrug. “Could be worse. We might have had to talk Lucifer into passing on our messages.”

Gabriel and Uriel stared at their brother in horror. “I’m hoping that was a joke” Gabriel muttered.

“With Father – you never know” Michal replied.


	22. Everything's going to be fine. Maybe. Probably.

At the precinct

Chloe stared into her coffee cup, trying once again to rationalize what she had witnessed at last night’s Halloween party in Lux. Lucifer had insisted that she and Linda leave the bar right when the party had fizzled out, leaving her with no time to ask either him or her new Librarian friends anything about what she had seen. “Wish now I’d gotten a number to contact them at” she muttered.

“Det. Decker?” A uniformed officer stopped in front of her door, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “You have a visitor.”

Chloe looked up into the blue eyes of Eve Baird, one of the members of the Great Library from the night before. “I was just thinking about you” she said, waving the other woman in.

“Figured after last night you might need to decompress before you started asking questions” Eve replied, taking a seat. “Must have been pretty crazy from your point of view.”

“Wasn’t it from yours?”

Eve shrugged. “Crazy takes on new meaning when you’re the Guardian of the Library. That – that was minor in comparison to having an Archangel drop through your ceiling into one of your rooms.”

Chloe thought about that for a moment then shrugged. “I see your point. But what all exactly happened last night? Everything was pretty strange but then it got scary strange. And then it all just stopped.”

Eve sighed. “From what Jenkins told us it seems that one of the Archangels is still having issues with changes God has made.”

“Jenkins?”

“Our Caretaker” Eve replied. “The older gentleman who opened the court of the King. He’s Arthur’s friend as well as being part of the Library. Usually, Arthur and Rowan coming looking for him when they visit.”

“Arthur and Rowan being the King and Queen? Right?”

“Right. Arthur used to be Uriel’s “companion” in another lifetime. And it appears he’s having issues with letting go.”

Chloe frowned. “Uriel – the blond angel right? He kept calling the King “Damien” – why?”

Eve looked down at her hands. “Seems that used to be Arthur’s name – until God decided to make some changes. Way above my pay grade – but let’s just say that things that were starting to come together just blew apart because of what happened last night.”

Chloe sighed. “You know – I went there to talk to Lucifer about how things could ever be the same between us now that I know who he really is. Suddenly – that doesn’t seem so important anymore.”

“Still is important” Eve replied calmly. “What happened at the party has nothing to do with you or Lucifer. And frankly, getting him focused on fixing things with you might actually make this whole blown apart scenario better. From what little I’ve seen of him – he likes to poke and prod all the sour spots in a person until he gets the reaction he wants. And I have a feeling if he does that to Rowan, Khan or Arthur they are likely to try to kick his ass all the way back to his hellish throne.”

“They couldn’t do that – could they?”

Eve shrugged. “Together – they might just make a good stab at it. And there is no guarantee that if they tried the Archangels wouldn’t flock to them to “help”. I get the feeling none of his brothers are quite ready to forgive and forget.”

Chloe leaned back in her chair. “So, what happens now?”

“Now you go to the club, corner Lucifer and rip him up one side and down the other. Then you two figure out a middle ground to keep on working together. One of the advantages of working in the Great Library is that I can access a LOT of information not available to others. And from what I can tell – you and Lucifer have been a good team, bringing closure to a lot of cases that might have gone unsolved if not for your persistence and his ability to see what most people don’t. It would be a shame to lose that because of …”

“Because he’s the Devil” Chloe said quietly.

“Det. Decker, I’ve been in places where humans have been doing things to each other that make any story you can tell me about Lucifer seem like a fairy tale. His Father put him in Hell for not wanting to bow to humans – and that’s on him. But while he’s been here, with you, he’s done nothing more than punish those who deserved punishing. Give him credit for trying to do things differently then he’s done before – even if you’re not sure the reasons behind his actions. At least – he’s not hurting innocents.”

Chloe smiled. “He’s ended up hurting himself more trying to protect me than anything else. Maybe…”

“Maybe you should pay him a visit” Eve said with a smile. “And remind him he’s still got someone he can talk to – even if that does mean you end up tuning out his monologues ever so often. Trust me – I’ve got one of those so I’ve learned it’s the only way to stay sane.”

The two women giggled at the thought of their two partners. “So – will I ever see you again?” Chloe asked with a smile.

“Maybe. Probably see Rowan before you see me but hey – I’ll leave you a number you can reach me at. Give me a call – I’m always up to talk.” Baird reached across the desk for a pad and pen and scribbled her cell number. “Here – call anytime if you have questions. If I can answer them I can find someone who can.”

“Thanks, Eve” Chloe stared down at the number for a moment. “Guess I should go talk to Lucifer.”

“Maybe not today” Eve warned with a smile. “Jenkins thinks Arthur maybe taking the club apart and putting it back together again so give it a day.”

Chloe frowned. “Why would he…?”

“Ro promised they would clean up after themselves. Jenkins says Arthur can be a bit OCD about that sort of thing. You know the type – sees a scratch on the floor as an excuse to replace the whole floor.”

“Oh – lovely. Lucifer will just LOVE that.”

“Yeah, the guy means well. Just goes a bit over the top sometimes. Or at least – that’s what Jenkins says.” Eve rose gracefully from her chair and held out her hand. “Don’t be a stranger, Chloe Decker.”

“Yeah – you too Eve Baird.”

Back at Lux

“Damn it!” Lucifer looked up from his piano in time to see Arthur hurl something across the room, barely missing one of the workmen. “Bloody Hell, Lucifer, how have you managed NOT to burn this damn place down?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about” Lucifer replied mildly, enjoying watching his cool as a cucumber “nephew” mutter curses under his breath in multiple languages.

“The wiring in this sound system is shot all to Hell!” Arthur kicked at the console in frustration. “And I am useless when it comes to electrical things.”

“Good thing I’m not” a deep voice called out cheerily from the door. Khan, dress in his “biker” gear of ragged t-shirt and jeans with a knapsack over his shoulder, trotted into the club, an amused grin on his face. “I’m actually a pretty good electrician. Need a hand?”

Arthur stared at the other man for a moment, then moved forward, enveloping him in a hug. “Hey, baby brother” he whispered. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Didn’t go anywhere” Khan said, returning the embrace. “Just checked up on the temple grounds and my kids.” He grinned down at his slightly shorter sibling. “Dude – chill! I know what happened last night wasn’t on you. If it’s meant that Gabriel and I re-start some sort of relationship then it will happen. If not – then it won’t. No worries.” He glanced down at the console. “So – want me to take a stab at this?”

“Damn straight I do” Arthur agreed happily. 

“Anyone home?” Rowan’s voice floated out of the dark entrance. The pretty brunette strolled through the door, carrying Café du Monde coffee cups and a bag of beignets in front of her. “Anyone in the mood for breakfast?”

“I am!” Lucifer called, out, pleased to see his pretty “niece” again. “I’m famished.”

“He’s famished?” Arthur muttered to Khan. “Dude’s been on his ass poking at that piano for the last few hours while I tried to put his club back together again.”

Khan shrugged. “Would you really want him to help?”

Arthur thought about it for a moment then shook his head with a smile. “No. Probably safer that he doesn’t” The two younger men moved forward, snatching cups and the bag of pastry out of their sister’s hands before Lucifer could reach her. “Hey Sissy!”

“Hey yourselves” she replied, handing one of the cups she’s salvaged from her brothers over to Lucifer. “So – what’s the plan here?”

“Get in, fix whatever we broke, and get out” Arthur replied, motioning towards the plans on the bar. A fine mist of powdered sugar trailed off as he moved.

“Mind where you’re spreading that stuff” Rowan protested. “It will attract insects if we don’t clean it up.”

“Aren’t either of you going to mention anything about last night?” Lucifer asked, taking a sip of the hot, chicory-laced coffee.

“No” all three replied in unison. Rowan laughed and waved her brothers off as she hopped on a stool to talk to the club owner. “It’s chill, Luci. At some point someone, probably Zaphiel, will decide all this separation from us is counterproductive. Or he’ll get tired of having to send message through a third party. Either way – he’ll be on our father’s doorstep, beer bottle in hand, and we’ll just accept him back. And once that happens…”

“The rest will come back too” Lucifer grumbled.

Rowan smiled and patted him on the arm. “You’ll still be my favorite” she cooed, a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Why does that scare me?” 

Laughter, the sound of construction and the smell of strong coffee put a good start to an even better day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the end of the Halloween edition. Maybe one more story - more aimed at Lucifer, Rowan and her boys and angels interacting with LAPD. Maybe.


End file.
